


A World Worth Saving

by simplesetgo



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-07
Updated: 2010-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-18 01:19:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplesetgo/pseuds/simplesetgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cara and Kahlan's relationship is evolving into something beyond friendship during the journey from the Pillars of Creation to Aydindril, but someone from their past is haunting their steps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Change

**Author's Note:**

> Begins immediately after season 2 episode 22, "Tears." Set mostly within TV-verse, but contains the occasional minor book/original element.

Cara slowly worked her way down the steep rock stairs leading from the Pillars of Creation. She was several steps behind the others, but the distance felt much farther than a couple of paces. She had tried to be swept up in their enthusiasm and triumph at their defeat of the Keeper, but standing next to the grinning Wizard as Richard and Kahlan shared an earnest kiss, it suddenly seemed an empty victory to Cara.

She looked down to her companions picking their way down the steps. The Wizard emanated that air of distinct satisfaction that made her skin itch. Richard had that particularly stupid grin pasted across his face, and it showed no signs of coming off any time soon. As for Kahlan—the Mother Confessor was positively glowing, a soft smile taking up permanent residence.

By the time they reached the last step, Cara couldn’t take it. “Richard,” she called. All three turned to face her and Cara bit back a scathing comment on their idiotic contented expressions. “Have you stopped to think where we’re going from here?” She took the last step down onto the beach with emphasis and threw her arms across her chest.

Richard glanced at Kahlan, who shrugged, and Zedd, who merely arched his bushy eyebrows. “Well, not yet,” the Seeker replied. “The world hasn’t been saved half a candlemark. I think we all earned some time to breathe.”

Cara just stared at him expectantly, and he scratched the back of his neck. “But now that you ask, I suppose we’ll be heading for Aydindril. We need to get Kahlan back home.” He flashed Kahlan a winsome smile and, just like that, the three of them were back to their former blissful selves.

Her hand went to an Agiel on her side and gripped it firmly. Cara was no stranger to this feeling, but not knowing the reason behind it made things much worse.

****

She struck out again and again at the body before her, her whip drawing thick bleeding lines across his stomach and chest. He hung still and quiet from the chains; he’d passed out long ago. She continued her work regardless, only pausing to push away the hair that strayed from her braid. She lost track of time, tearing at his flesh methodically, and didn’t notice her Sister standing behind her until she spoke. “Mistress?”

She whirled furiously at the interruption. “What is it?”

“You requested word if anything changed with the rift to the north.”

Her chest tightened, and she smoothed back her hair to feign disinterest. “And?”

“It has closed.”

“Closed,” she repeated. “You’re sure?”

“Yes Mistress. It’s like it was never there.”

She loosed a shaky exhale, and gripped the whip tighter before calmly placing it on the table. She floated a hand towards the bloody mess hanging still from the chains. “Bring him down, have the wizard heal him, then lock him in his cell.”

She had barely started down the narrow stone corridor away from the training room when her Sister called back at her. “Mistress? He’s dead. He lost too much blood.”

“Then revive him,” she snapped, not bothering to turn around. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d killed the fool, whether accidently or purposefully. It was beginning to have a bit of an effect on him.

Her heels clicked and echoed against stone, and she walked with purpose in her step. The seething and roiling rage she kept hidden under the surface was finally going to have release, an outlet, beyond the shell of the man in the training room. The constant pressure had been there since her Sisters revived her, and she was content to bide her time. But when word reached her of a certain prophecy that removed her option for vengeance, it had bloomed and blossomed into loathing and hatred, and she let it consume her. But none of that mattered anymore.

She felt her lips curl into a smile. The Mother Confessor’s heart was now fair game.

****

Five days had passed since they left the Pillars, and Kahlan was growing concerned for Cara. The blonde was more pensive and brooding than usual, her sarcasm cut deeper, and she characteristically refused all attempts Kahlan made to talk. Something was eating away at her from the inside, and Kahlan desperately wanted to be let in. She was becoming worried the delicate friendship they had built over their journey to the Stone of Tears was failing, and she didn’t know why. Nothing had happened; she had gone through every possible reason for the blonde’s melancholy, and nothing made sense.

Making matters worse, Kahlan was a bit of a wreck herself. She had no one to talk to about her discussion with Richard five nights ago that left them feeling very far apart. It was the first time anything had come between their tight-knit group, and it was her fault.

It seemed naïve now, but she never actually thought she would have a fight with Richard. Especially not on what was supposed to be their first night together. She’d broken off the kiss, looked into his eyes, and something felt undeniably wrong. She’d left Richard standing shirtless and escaped back to the campfire, taking silent refuge at Cara’s side.

The heated words that had passed between herself and Richard later that same night were still haunting her, because she knew that everything she had told him was true. There was no going back; the words that left her own mouth had undone everything she’d thought they had together.

Kahlan loosed a sigh from the stump serving as her seat, staring at the small circle of stones in the center of their camp that would hold a fire later that night. They were deep in a thick forest and had stopped with plenty of sunlight left to allow Zedd to hunt for some rare and wild herb. Even having found it quickly enough, they decided against repacking the camp and continuing.

She heard footsteps behind her, and Richard approached to sit down awkwardly at her side. Zedd appeared on her other side and hovered there, gazing innocently off into the trees. Kahlan was trapped, and she struggled to keep annoyance out of her voice. “What is it, Richard?”

“It’s about Cara,” he answered quickly.

“What about her?”

“She has withdrawn,” Zedd pointed out. “Something is bothering her, and has been since we left the Pillars.”

Kahlan leaned back and put aside her personal vexation; they all wanted the same thing. “I don’t know what to do. She’s insisted she’s fine, but I expected as much.”

“She should be happy,” Richard sighed. “We defeated the Keeper; our mission is complete. We won.”

Kahlan pursed her lips. “Cara doesn’t do ‘happy’. She’s either annoyed or slightly less annoyed. Still, this isn’t like her.”

“Well, the only one who hasn’t tried talking to her is Zedd,” Richard offered, glancing at the wide-eyed Wizard in question.

Kahlan saved him the trouble of blustering through an excuse. “I think Cara is more likely to break into song than discuss matters of the heart with our dear First Wizard, Richard.”

Zedd drew himself up indignantly. “I’ll have you know that when you were in the Con Dar, Cara admitted to me that—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kahlan sighed. “We just haven’t found the right words yet.” Her eyes narrowed as a thought came to her. There was one language Cara spoke better than any other. She rose suddenly and realized the blonde in question was nowhere in sight. “Do you know where she is?”

Richard shook his head. “No, but her pack is here. She’s close by somewhere.”

Kahlan started across the camp. She was intent on breaking through the Mord-Sith’s defenses, literal or otherwise. She found Cara several paces into the forest on the other side of the camp, leaning idly against a tree and polishing an Agiel. The top half of her leathers were gleaming as well; Cara was clearly bored.

“You look like you want to use that on someone,” Kahlan observed neutrally as she stepped closer.

Cara’s hand froze and her eyes flicked up to meet Kahlan’s. She arched an eyebrow slightly. “Are you offering?”

Kahlan nodded. “Let’s go find somewhere more open.”

Cara’s other eyebrow rose.

“Well, I won’t be making it easy for you,” Kahlan added.

Cara’s lips curled in some semblance of a smirk—the first Kahlan had seen in days.

****

After a short walk in less than comfortable silence, they found a suitable open glade—several paces across, flat ground, and a carpet of leaves and short grass. “This should do,” Kahlan mused.

Cara took a few steps ahead and turned, drumming her fingers against an Agiel.

Kahlan bowed her head and knelt to pull the daggers from her boots. She barely had time to smile as she saw Cara surge toward her the moment her hands touched the hilts. _Nothing if not efficient_ , she thought. She feigned unawareness as Cara closed the distance between them rapidly, then slammed a dagger's hilt towards Cara’s stomach.

The Mord-Sith twisted her body at the last possible moment, almost losing her balance, but landed a sharp hit on Kahlan's side as she passed by. Kahlan winced as pain flashed across her side, but she wasted no time. She turned to Cara and struck out, hoping to take advantage of her momentary loss of control. The hilt connected forcefully with Cara's ribs before the blonde fell back.

Kahlan flipped her daggers to blades. They caught their breath before colliding again, and the match began.

****

The sun was well on its way down, and those first hits were among the hardest either of them had received. Few words had been exchanged save shouts of exertion, grunts of annoyance, and the occasional taunt; Kahlan was clearly enjoying this as much as Cara.

They paused and circled warily, and Cara regarded the lithe figure before her with narrowed eyes. Fading sunlight lit dark hair ruffling in the breeze, and Kahlan’s face and heaving chest were covered in a glistening sheen of sweat. Determined blue eyes flashed back at her.

Cara had always thought Kahlan looked her best with a little sweat and dirt, and the way Kahlan was looking at her right now Cara was having a hard time reining in her imagination. The picture of Kahlan collapsed on the leaves, undressed with chest heaving for a different reason, wouldn’t leave her thoughts until Cara forcefully blinked. The Mother Confessor stood before her, and she was very much off-limits. Still, she couldn’t resist an innocent comment. “Looking a little rough, Kahlan.”

The brunette raised an eyebrow and pushed a windswept lock of hair out of her face. “Oh? Let me find a mirror for you.”

Cara gave a lopsided smirk and charged her. Daggers flashed and met Agiels with a sharp crack. The pair of leather rods pushed and caught against the daggers' hilts; arms locked and suddenly it was a contest of brute strength. She saw Kahlan grit her teeth and plant her feet. Kahlan would have to break this hold—soon.

They strained against each other, and their eyes locked. Cara’s world shrank under Kahlan’s gaze and suddenly, inexplicably, time seemed to slow. She stared openly into narrowing eyes, and Kahlan’s white teeth flashed in the sunlight as she bared them in exertion. Her own heavy breath echoed in her ears; heartbeats thudded through her chest and she felt as if she was falling forward, sinking into the Confessor's eyes. Cara’s thoughts stopped cold, and she couldn’t breathe or even blink.

With a shout Kahlan fell back and kicked upward. Cara's Agiels met empty air and, caught off balance, her stomach and chest were exposed. Kahlan's boot connected with red leather and Cara keeled over as the air rushed from her lungs. Kahlan had fallen to her back on the grass, but rebounded up quickly as Cara fruitlessly tried to pull air into her chest. Her throat constricted and her stomach heaved as she struggled to breathe.

Cara finally sucked in a deep breath and looked up. Kahlan had a slightly worried look on her face, but was standing two paces away with daggers ready. Cara couldn't help but be amused that the brunette thought she might be faking. “What was that?” she finally wheezed, readying her Agiels and facing Kahlan. “You did something.”

Genuine confusion passed over Kahlan's face. “What was what?”

Cara’s brow furrowed. “I saw…” She wasn’t sure what she saw. Kahlan’s eyes had stayed very blue—whatever it was, it was hardly her power. “Forget it. Let’s go again.”

“It's almost nightfall. We should get back.”

“I'll make it quick,” Cara assured her.

“Well. Whatever it was…if it happens again, I'm not mending your leathers.”

Cara’s eyes widened and Kahlan gave a short laugh, stepping back and flipping a dagger in her palm. Cara noted the confidence with an inward smirk.

****

Comfortable silence ruled their leisurely walk back to the others, and darkness had just settled around them when they spotted the warm glow of their campfire. Cara worked her way through the trees with Kahlan at her side, and realized she felt more like herself than she had in days. She stole a glance at the figure beside her, and realized Kahlan had given her a gift. An evening of distraction, and a reminder of who she was.

Kahlan suddenly returned her glance, and Cara tried to restore her countenance to stoicism. It was too late; the Confessor read the look of understanding and gratitude like so many words on paper. Kahlan smiled, and Cara groaned inwardly at what she knew was coming.

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what’s been bothering you?” Kahlan asked.

Cara sighed and stopped them both. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. She was tired of deflecting, tired of not answering, and tired of not knowing the answer herself. “I think it started after we saved the world.” She shrugged her shoulders, and Kahlan pensively canted her head.

“What did you feel then? At the Pillars?”

Cara frowned. “What kind of question is that? Our mission was done; that’s all I was thinking about.”

“I didn’t ask what you were thinking, I was asking what you felt,” Kahlan reminded her.

“I hardly remember,” Cara huffed.

“Well. That might be the key. I hope you can figure it out. You haven’t been yourself, and I want you back.” Her slight smile turned into a grin, and she punched Cara playfully on the shoulder. “I miss my Cara.”

Kahlan’s last words did something strange to Cara, and if her smirk was closer to a smile Kahlan didn’t seem to notice. The brunette’s brow was furrowed in thought. “Does it have something to do with Richard?”

“No. I don’t think so. Why would it?”

“Because you’ve been avoiding him. Do you remember last night? We were sitting by the campfire, and when Richard came and sat by me you got up and left.”

Cara narrowed her eyes. “I did?”

“You did,” Kahlan confirmed.

“I was thirsty,” Cara shrugged.

“Oh.” Kahlan nervously averted her eyes. “We had a fight a few nights ago, you know,” she offered.

“You did?”

Cara had been so wrapped up in trying and failing to avoid pointless introspection she honestly hadn’t noticed, but now that she gave it thought, Kahlan had been acting a little moody. She then sighed as a second realization surfaced—she had just given Kahlan free rein to talk. About her feelings. They might be here all night.

Kahlan nodded. “I ended things. Between us,” she said softly.

Cara couldn’t stop her eyes from widening. “What? Why?”

The two had been together, in one way or another, for the entire time Cara had known them both. She had always taken their relationship for granted. Realizing she was suddenly living in a world without it, and had been for days, was a little jarring.

Kahlan dipped her head. “I just…had to.” She was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry Cara. I thought I wanted to talk about it, but maybe I’m not ready.”

Cara searched through her limited repertoire of comforting things to say and came up with a total of one. “I’m sorry,” she finally ventured.

It seemed to work well enough; a small smile appeared on Kahlan’s face. “It’s alright. It’s just going to take some getting used to.”

Cara nodded, and looked awkwardly off toward the camp. They stood in silence for what seemed like far too long, and Cara couldn’t believe she was even giving it thought. A soft sigh from Kahlan made up her mind for her. “Would you like a hug?” Cara asked stiffly, avoiding Kahlan’s gaze. “Would that help you? Feel better.”

She risked a glance, and the look on Kahlan’s face was too many things at once. Before Cara could retract her offer, Kahlan stepped in front of her and wrapped her arms around Cara in a fierce embrace. Cara stiffened instinctively before forcing herself to relax. She was doing this for Kahlan. She reached her own arms around Kahlan’s back, tentatively at first, and as she tightened them and Kahlan pulled her closer, Cara felt something.

They had embraced before, but never like this. Never this close. Kahlan sighed against her, and she seemed to draw strength from Cara. She flexed her arms around Cara’s back, tightening them for a moment in silent thanks.

But neither of them let go, and Cara closed her eyes. Her other senses took over; she began to grow used to the warmth of Kahlan against her, and the feel and sound of her steady breathing against her own chest.

Kahlan suddenly buried her head against Cara’s shoulder and whispered, “Thank you.” Cara knew she should say she was welcome, or plead with her not to mention it, but the tightness in her throat wouldn’t let her speak.


	2. Warmth

She hadn’t slept through the night since her Sisters woke her with the Breath of Life. The pain was too much. She padded quietly through the corridors of her Temple, listening to the torches sputter and wind howl against the stone.

She had lived the past months in a state of constant exhaustion. It was hard to rest with every heartbeat sending a jolt of sharp pain through her chest. Somehow, she knew it was the lingering tie of the Confessor’s heart to hers, and it punished her own with every beat. One of them had to stop, and it wouldn’t be hers.

She had grown accustomed to it, this reminder of her brief confession, but it never lessened. The only thing that helped was to lose herself in the training room; she would imagine it was the Mother Confessor hanging from the chains, and take her vengeance.

Quiet voices reached her ears from behind a closed door. She approached slowly and carefully when she heard her name.

“She’s dangerous,” one muffled voice said. “She hasn’t been…right, since we brought her back. Something’s wrong with her.”

“She’s the reason confession is supposed to be the permanent death,” a second voice agreed. “We shouldn’t have revived her at all.”

“What would you have us do?” another voice asked. “You saw how easily she worked her way to the top.”

Her lips curled at the memory of the bloody trail she had left during her rapid climb to the top of the Temple’s chain of command. She had stayed within the laws of honor for such a coup—barely.

“Besides,” the voice continued. “She has an uncanny ability to know what people are thinking. It’s impossible to surprise her.”

She smirked at the irony of the moment, then moved on down the corridor. She’d heard enough. Let them think what they would—she had put faces to the voices, and if they gave her trouble they would suffer the same fate as the rest.

Her thoughts turned to the problem at hand—actually finding the cursed Mother Confessor. She and her little band were traipsing through the Midlands, somewhere, and they were proving infuriatingly difficult to locate.

Her hand fell easily to the Agiel at her side, and she traced the patterns with the tip of her finger. It was only a matter of time.

****

In the two weeks since they’d left the Pillars, Richard had taken to spending more time with Zedd, asking the Wizard to teach him the basics of powders and potions. Zedd seemed happy to help with what Kahlan was sure he knew was a distraction.

This left Kahlan spending more time alone with Cara in the mornings and evenings between their time on the road. The Mord-Sith had seemed to return to herself the night of their sparring match, and Kahlan found herself taking refuge in her familiarity and presence. Cara offered it, quick wit and all, but the way she looked at Kahlan sometimes…Kahlan had thought it curiosity at first, but whatever it was, it was something new.

They didn’t talk about Richard, and Cara didn’t ask. She seemed content to let Kahlan talk about whatever she wanted, and equally content when Kahlan preferred silence. Truthfully, Cara seemed to think Kahlan was having a harder time of it than she was. Her relationship with Richard had been a big part of her life, but it was hardly all-consuming.

“Kahlan.”

She opened her eyes to the familiar sight of early morning sun breaking through mist and tall trees, and a red-clad blonde towering over her bedroll. “’Morning,” she offered groggily.

Cara tossed her a waterskin. “We’re going hunting. I don’t know about you, but I could use a good meal.”

“Can I wake up first?”

****

They hadn’t found any game by late morning, and what began as a light drizzle had turned into a torrential downpour. Dark clouds blocked out most of the sun, rain fell in thick sheets, and cold wind whipped through Cara’s hair. Her leather afforded her some small comfort, but a quick glance confirmed Kahlan’s dark traveling dress was drenched through. She felt Kahlan grab her arm and saw her point toward a dark pine with thick, low-slung branches reaching to the ground. “There!” she yelled.

When they reached the pine, Kahlan pulled aside the heavy boughs and motioned at Cara to crawl under them. Cara tossed her bow inside and dropped to her hands and knees to crawl through, finding a small space with a dry bed of pine needles around the trunk. Kahlan scrambled in after her, and they quickly settled side by side with their backs against the wide trunk. “The wayward pine,” Kahlan said after a moment, pulling her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “Friend to any traveler.”

Cara looked up. The branches were layered and so full of needles that no rain leaked through. The fierce roar of rain and wind was muted inside their shelter, but Cara noticed Kahlan shivering. She looked over to see the Confessor's jaw clenched shut to keep her teeth from chattering, and her dark hair clinging to her face in wet ringlets. “Comfortable?” Cara asked, innocence personified.

Kahlan glared at her, but her lips were curled slightly. “Aren't you cold?”

“My skin heats the rainwater trapped under my leathers.”

Kahlan didn't respond. The moment of silence was broken by an earsplitting crash of thunder, and she jumped involuntarily. Cara smirked, but her face softened as she saw the shivering brunette bow her head, placing her forehead on her knees. She sighed and reached an arm around Kahlan's back, placing her hand around her shoulder and pulling her to her side. Kahlan raised her head and immediately edged closer, desperate for Cara's warmth. She settled snugly against Cara and gave an answering sigh. Lightning flashed outside, and thunder rumbled through the dulled roar of rain and wind.

“I hate being wet,” Kahlan mumbled after a moment.

“Well. I can't do anything about that.”

“I know,” Kahlan replied quickly. “Thank you.” She turned her head and looked at Cara. Cara met her gaze, but only for a moment before looking away. “You're very warm,” Kahlan offered.

Cara grunted.

Kahlan just snuggled closer, and after a moment spoke quietly. “You’ve been nice to me recently. Is it just because of what happened with Richard?”

Cara wrinkled her nose. She hadn’t been making a conscious effort to be nice. Mord-Sith weren’t nice. But here she was, with an arm around Kahlan nonetheless. “You seemed to need it,” she offered carefully.

“Oh.” Kahlan almost sounded disappointed. “And when I don’t need it anymore?”

The thought gave Cara pause. Kahlan seemed to have taken their hug as license to give and show Cara affection, and Cara had grown used to receiving it over the past several days. She didn’t want it to stop. “Maybe you’ll always need it.”

Kahlan was silent, and shifted against her before answering. “I think I will,” she said decisively. Her hand reached behind her to Cara’s arm, and stayed there while the wind and rain howled outside and they sat in their familiar silence. It was strange, how easily giving comfort to Kahlan came. Cara had no experience in such matters; the only thing worse than showing weakness in a Mord-Sith temple was indulging another’s.

Numbness crept into Cara’s arm, and when she could no longer feel Kahlan’s hand she shifted, letting the feeling return in a flood of painful pricks in her skin and muscle. The action seemed to break Kahlan from her reverie, and an admission burst forth as sudden as the flash of lightning that followed. “I thought I loved him.”

Cara had begun to wonder if this would ever come. She’d given thought to how she should handle Kahlan’s inevitable outpouring of her feelings, but her painstakingly prepared reassurances vanished and all she could do was give Kahlan what she hoped was a supportive and understanding look.

Still, Kahlan seemed to be waiting for something, and Cara tried to make her voice gentle. “But you don’t?”

Kahlan took a deep breath and leaned her head back against the rough bark of the trunk. “No. I wasn’t even sure when I told him that night, but it made more and more sense the more I thought about it.” She glanced at Cara, and gave her a small and rueful smile. “Richard was my first friend. Confessors live together, apart from the world, and I was so taken aback by his willingness to look past what I could do, what I was, that I confused one kind of love for another. I told Richard that I loved him and wanted to be with him, and just assumed it was the truth. But the night after we left the Pillars, Richard wanted me to lay with him, and I looked into his eyes and realized I didn’t want a future with him.”

She sighed and slid down a little, resting her head against Cara’s shoulder. “It was the way he always looks at me, like I need saving,” she continued slowly. “I know he loves me…I couldn’t confess him. But I think it’s for the wrong reasons.”

Kahlan looked up at Cara, and Cara was taken aback by the Confessor’s searching gaze. “I think that’s why I asked you what I did earlier,” Kahlan said, brow furrowed. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I want our closeness to be because we both want it.”

Cara blinked. “What are you saying?”

Kahlan spent a moment in thought as her eyes traveled over Cara’s face. “I want you to know that the affection I have for you is not because I suddenly have affection to give, and it’s not because you’re not Richard. It’s because you’re you, Cara.” She raised herself up and canted her head at Cara. “Does that make sense?”

Cara wrinkled her forehead. “No. I’m not trying to replace Richard.”

Kahlan smiled. “Good, because you’re nothing like him.”

“That’s a good thing?”

“Very,” Kahlan confirmed.

Cara’s brow furrowed even more, and she returned her gaze to the dark green wall of branches and needles before them.

****

Kahlan thought about the words that had just left her and what they meant, and she reached for Cara’s hand around her back. She closed her eyes as she realized that as unversed in matters of the heart as the Mord-Sith was, Cara didn’t know what she was just figuring out for herself.

Kahlan rested her head on Cara’s shoulder and realized that for what should be a strange and sudden awareness, she felt strangely comfortable. She thought back to all the moments they’d shared over their journey to defeat the Keeper, and a small smile reached her face. It was possible they had been more than friends for some time, and it had taken Kahlan’s looking past Richard to lift the veil between them so one of them could see it.

She sighed suddenly, and noticed the storm had abated and the rain had stopped. Cara hadn’t moved a muscle beside her, and Kahlan took the opportunity to plant a seed in Cara’s thoughts. “Cara, do you remember when Richard was at the Palace of the Prophets, and Zedd was searching out Shota? After you gave up trying to teach me how to ignore my silly emotions, you let me sit close by you at night. I even fell asleep on you a couple times, and you pretended not to notice in the morning. Why did you let me do that?”

Cara took in a breath, and Kahlan decided the answer was coming too quickly to be the truth. She made a small noise of disapproval, and sat up to look Cara in the eye. Cara looked cowed, and her answer came quietly. “Because I wanted to.”

Kahlan smiled and squeezed Cara’s arm behind her. She pushed up, lifting the branches of their shelter and emerging into the bright sunlight. Cara followed, blinking and stretching with her hand on the small of her back. Rain dripped from wet branches and soaked leaves, and the smell of wet earth filled the air. Everything was glistening, and Kahlan thought it looked beautiful.

She looked back at Cara, who was wrinkling her nose at the sun. “Half a day to find something worth eating,” the blonde sighed.

“Will we be hunting with my daggers then?” Kahlan asked, an amused smile on her face.

Cara narrowed her eyes, and looked down. She’d left the bow under the pine, and muttered something unintelligible as she ducked under the branches to retrieve it. She emerged with a wry smirk. “Daggers would be better than Agiels, you know.”

They stared at each other for a moment, and Kahlan burst out laughing. She knew they were both picturing Cara throwing a small red leather rod at some unsuspecting woodland creature. Cara gave up trying to bite back a smile and set off past her. “Come on,” the blonde called over her shoulder. Kahlan recovered herself and followed after her, throwing one last glance back at the wayward pine.

****

She watched Cara shift the weight of the young doe across her shoulders as they walked back. They’d tracked it over the afternoon, and Cara had brought it down cleanly. They were close to their camp when Cara’s voice broke into Kahlan’s thoughts. “What about Richard?”

Kahlan glanced at her quizzically. “What about him?”

“You never mentioned how he handled that night.”

Guilt crept in Kahlan’s tone. “Oh. I think he’s expecting me to come back to him. So he took it better than I thought he might, once he got past his anger.”

Cara slowed, and Kahlan saw her jaw clench. “Anger? Kahlan, did he—”

“No,” she assured her quickly. “He would never hurt me. He was just angry at the world, and I can’t blame him. I think he felt lied to, and in a way he was.”

“I see.” Cara stopped, resting her back lightly against a nearby tree. “I wonder what he’ll do once he’s mastered every potion under the sun.”

“I’m sure Zedd has plenty to teach such a willing student,” Kahlan sighed. She noticed Cara looking at her, with that look, and finally decided to make mention. “Do I have something on me?” she asked nervously, eyes darting down over her own front.

Cara raised her eyebrows. “Maybe I’m just admiring Kahlan Amnell, the mighty hunter of legend,” she declared solemnly.

Kahlan’s gaze fell to the bow in her own hand, and she was suddenly tempted to throw it on the ground. “You shot the deer, not me,” she muttered.

Cara smirked, and Kahlan felt her face flush. “Well, it looks good on you,” Cara offered lightly. She gripped the deer’s legs and moved to continue on their way.

“Thanks,” Kahlan mumbled as she fell in beside the Mord-Sith. “You don’t look too bad wearing deer,” she added.

Cara grunted, and Kahlan glanced to see a half-smile on Cara’s lips. She liked seeing Cara smile; even more so when she was the cause of it.

Kahlan would wait. The Mord-Sith deserved the chance to figure things out herself, and Kahlan needed time to make sure that her earlier words remained true. It was too soon; she didn’t want Cara to be a replacement for Richard. She couldn’t bear the thought of hurting Cara the way she knew she had hurt him. So she would wait, and she would hope.


	3. Want

She watched from a high window as a rider dressed in black approached the Temple. He was in a hurry; she could see his mount wheeling and chomping the bit as he slowed to a stop and dismounted. There was only one reason for one of them to come back. It was no secret that if they returned in failure, their reward would be a breaking at her own hand.

She walked down the stairs to the Temple entrance, keeping her pace slow and deliberate with supreme effort. He was waiting for her, just outside the door, and she wasted no time. “Speak,” she commanded.

“We found them.”

“How far?”

“It will take weeks, but they’re headed straight toward Aydindril. They don’t seem to be in a hurry, Mistress. If we ride hard we can catch them.”

“Good. We leave today.”

“Very well, Mistress.”

He stayed still, looking at her expectantly, and she tossed the coinpurse on the ground in front of him. He lunged down to retrieve it, and she turned on her heel with her lips curled in disgust. Mercenaries were all the same.

****

Cara leaned against a tree, chewing idly on a piece of cooked venison while she watched Richard finish fixing the rest of the carcass for drying and travel. He had jumped on the opportunity to prepare her prize, and she saw no reason not to let him.

She’d had the last night and most of the morning to reflect on whatever it was that had happened under the wayward pine with Kahlan, but quickly realized she felt even more confused than she had before. Cara simply wasn’t used to thinking about such things, and soon gave up trying to decipher Kahlan’s cryptic words of affection and feelings and wants.

She heard light and careful footsteps behind her, and smirked when she felt a touch on her shoulder. “Not even close,” Cara murmured.

Kahlan loosed a frustrated sigh and stepped beside her. For some reason Kahlan had taken up trying to sneak up on Cara. She had assured Kahlan it was impossible, but the Mother Confessor seemed determined.

What did catch her off guard was Kahlan leaning over and…smelling her. She sniffed Cara’s hair and scrunched her nose while Cara’s eyes widened slightly. “You still smell like deer,” Kahlan pronounced. “There’s a small lake nearby. Come on.”

****

The forest stayed true to Kahlan’s word; it opened up as their path ended, and low hanging trees bent over the rocky shores of calm water. The noon sun was beating down on the lake, and it was strangely quiet. But for the occasional bird call, there was only the soft lapping of water on rock from the breeze.

“Beautiful spot, isn’t it?”

Cara glanced at her sidelong. “Wide open to an ambush,” she said dismissively. The twitch at the corner of Kahlan’s mouth let her know she hadn’t expected anything different.

Kahlan made a show of sighing contentedly as she looked around the small grotto, and Cara rolled her eyes. “Kahlan, do you know all of the Midlands this well?” she asked. No matter where they were, what trail or road they were on, Kahlan always seemed to know exactly what was nearby.

“Yes,” Kahlan answered simply. “Not only did I study far more than my fair share of maps when I was young, but after a couple rounds of the Midlands with a chatty old Wizard in tow you can’t help but learn far more than you want to.”

They approached the water’s edge together and began loosening clothing. “Who, Zedd?” Cara asked. “And what did you mean by rounds?”

“No,” Kahlan replied. “I’d never met Zedd until the Boundaries fell and D’Hara invaded the Midlands.” She grew pensive, lifting her top over her head and pulling it free before continuing. “Sometimes I forget that I haven’t known you very long,” she added.

Cara continued loosening laces, and Kahlan sighed audibly. “Will you let me help you with those?” Cara froze at her voice. “It’s been awhile since I asked,” Kahlan added hopefully.

“You don’t understand.” The words came out much harsher than Cara intended, and Kahlan wordlessly turned away to begin loosening her corset. “Kahlan…” Cara tried to explain, again. “It’s a matter of tradition and honor. Mord-Sith leather may not be designed to be taken off or put on by the wearer, but there are only two people in the life of a Mord-Sith who may assist her. Another Sister of the Agiel, or the Mord-Sith’s mate. You are neither.”

Kahlan didn’t say a word in response, and Cara kicked herself inwardly. She’d upset Kahlan. Her head lowered and she started savagely pulling at arm laces. She didn’t expect Kahlan’s voice to have the calmness and clarity it did. “Why do you not wear full Mord-Sith leather?”

Cara grit her teeth, and knew she was about to engage in a battle of words she would probably lose. “It’s not practical, or needed. Not anymore.”

“But you’re still Mord-Sith,” Kahlan offered.

“Of course.”

“And you will always be Mord-Sith,” Kahlan said, her voice softening as she stepped in front of Cara. “It’s a part of you. That doesn’t mean you can’t make allowances for practicality’s sake. Cara, it takes you half a candlemark to get out of your leathers, and a quarter to get them back on. That’s not practical, or needed. Let me help you. It won’t make you any less of a Mord-Sith.”

Kahlan was right, as usual, and Cara recognized logic when she heard it. While Mord-Sith did not accept help, casually offered or otherwise, if there was one person Cara would suffer help from it was Kahlan. So she dipped her head and lowered her eyes in acquiescence.

Kahlan canted her head. “Good,” she said quietly. She stepped to Cara’s side and knelt, and began loosening the leg laces. Cara continued working on her arm, and Kahlan cleared her throat and began to talk. “Before the latest war with D’Hara began, Confessors traveled freely over the Midlands to extend justice wherever it was needed. A Confessor always traveled with a single Wizard escort, and before the Boundary fell there wasn’t much a Confessor and Wizard couldn’t handle. My escort…” Here Kahlan’s fingers paused their work and she laughed, and Cara felt a smile grow across her face at the sound. “…was Wizard Gareth. He’s a third-order Wizard, and possibly more eccentric than Zedd…”

****

It seemed like no time at all had passed when Kahlan finished the laces on her back, and Cara was able to shrug off her leather armor. She stepped free of it and approached the water’s edge. Kahlan had grown quiet, and Cara lightly considered thanking her. She looked over her shoulder, and the look on Kahlan’s face stopped her cold.

It took her a moment to place it. Her eyes, hooded but focused, tracing a path over Cara’s body, and the ever so slight parting of her lips. It was a look Cara was used to receiving when she walked into a tavern from young men and women who had either not heard enough stories of the Mord-Sith, or had heard ample stories of the wrong kind.

Cara’s brow furrowed. This was hardly the first time they had bathed together, but she couldn’t remember seeing this look on the Mother Confessor before.

“Kahlan?”

****

She barely heard Cara call her name. When the leather fell from Cara’s body it was like a veil had been lifted, and she saw Cara in a whole new light. Her eyes traveled over Cara, drinking in the sight of her golden skin, the muscles in her back and the curves below. Her mind began imagining things—the taste of Cara, and what her lips would feel like on her own. What it would feel like to press herself against the Mord-Sith without the barrier of clothing, to feel her body tense under her. She imagined looking into burning green eyes as Cara’s breath came short, and hearing Cara whisper her name as the blonde broke against her.

Kahlan blinked, the vision vanished, and she realized Cara really was staring at her. She stepped back, waiting until she was sure her voice wouldn’t betray her. “You have nice skin,” she offered brusquely.

Cara’s brow pinched in confusion, her hands fell to her naked hips, and Kahlan fought to keep her gaze on Cara’s face. “Did you just notice?” Cara asked evenly.

Why was this happening now? She had brought Cara here to prove something to her; to show that Cara could let Kahlan be a part of her life and still be Mord-Sith. Losing control of the impulses she usually had no issues keeping buried was not part of the plan.

Kahlan didn’t know what to do. She began fumbling at her corset to buy herself time, and decided the truth would have to wait. Cara watched for a moment, canting her head, and when she didn’t receive an answer she turned and headed into the lake.

Kahlan pulled the corset free, stumbled out of her dress and underclothes, and followed the blonde into the water. She was suddenly self-conscious and hoped Cara wouldn’t turn around. She was afraid Cara could read the intent written across her body. Thankfully Cara struck out across the lake, cleaving the water with deep strokes until she reached the middle.

Kahlan quickly swam forward and submerged herself, desperately hoping to somehow cool the heat deep in her belly. She dove lower and reached the coldness under the sun-warmed top. It didn’t help.

When she broke the surface and wiped the water from her eyes, Cara was closer, eyeing her with a mix of concern and amusement. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Kahlan sputtered. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Cara treaded water easily and shrugged. “You look…unnerved.”

“I’m fine, Cara.”

Cara squinted and looked past her to the shore. “You left the soap,” she pointed out.

Kahlan whipped her head around. “I…”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get it.” She launched herself past Kahlan with powerful strokes. When she emerged at the shore with hips swaying, water streaming from her hair, and wet skin glistening in the sunlight, Kahlan swallowed hard and let herself sink back under the surface.

****

There was no point in dressing still wet if they weren’t in a hurry, and so Kahlan found herself lying under the sun next to the Mord-Sith, still very naked and very bothered. She’d had ample time to think about why she had just now noticed Cara’s body was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and could only think of one thing. Just yesterday, she had come to terms with the fact that Cara was more than a friend to her. Her body was agreeing.

“Is it gone?” Cara asked suddenly.

“Is what gone?”

“The deer smell.”

“Probably.”

“Shouldn’t you check?” Cara asked innocently.

Kahlan bit her lip and searched the clouds for a way out. With a sigh she raised herself and turned over, lowering her head toward Cara’s shoulder. She didn’t make it that far; Cara pushed up suddenly and Kahlan’s heart almost stopped as Cara moved her mouth toward Kahlan’s with unmistakable intent. Their lips were impossibly close when Kahlan yanked away with a sharp breath.

Cara looked confused, but thankfully not hurt. “I thought you…”

Kahlan’s words came out in a rush. “Not like this. Not when you don’t…” She paused before collapsing onto her back. “We can’t. You know what I am.” She took refuge in her identity, her power, and how dangerous their union would be to Cara. Truthfully she had all but forgotten that little detail.

“I could get you started,” Cara offered casually. “Or farther, if you like. Really, Kahlan. I wouldn’t mind, and you obviously need it.”

Denying it seemed to be out of the question; Kahlan opted for dismissal. “I can take care of myself,” she stated. “I always have.” It was true, but then again, she’d never experienced such a sudden and powerful want. There was a different reason, more logical, but Kahlan’s thoughts were far too muddled to try and explain it.

Somehow, she knew Cara was rolling her eyes beside her. “Well, my offer stands.”

“Thank you, Cara.” She sincerely hoped that would be the end of it. For now.

****

She had dressed herself in silence, and they were finishing up the laces on Cara’s leather together when an idea occurred to Kahlan. She wasn’t even sure where it came from, only that it made a strange amount of sense. “Cara,” she asked as she pulled the knot tight on the last lace. “Will you cut my hair?”

There was a pause, and Cara’s voice was nothing short of dumbfounded. “What, off?”

“No,” Kahlan laughed. “Just trim it a little. I was going to wait until we got to Aydindril, but…” She shrugged. “Why not now?”

“Now as in…now?” Cara asked with widening eyes.

Kahlan nodded.

“I can’t,” Cara said dismissively. “I’ve never cut hair before.”

“It’s not hard,” Kahlan promised. “Please?”

She watched Cara chew on her cheek, and finally sigh and give a curt nod. Kahlan pulled a dagger free, handing it Cara before sitting down cross legged. Cara knelt before her while Kahlan gathered her hair into a tight fist before bringing it over her shoulder. “It’s wet, so that makes it easier,” Kahlan explained. “Just take a little bit at a time—about a hand’s width—and pull it taut, then cut. Easy.”

Cara eyed her nervously. “A hand’s width,” she repeated.

Kahlan nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. She clenched her fist around her hair as Cara carefully selected a length and pulled, and the soft shearing sound of hair being cut reached her ears a moment later.

****

They were almost back to the camp. Kahlan’s hair had all but dried, and she twirled the ends in her fingers thoughtfully. She slowed to a stop, and Cara did the same, giving her questioning glance.

She took a deep breath, and jumped straight in. “Confessors can’t cut their own hair.”

“Why not?”

“It hurts. The pain is unbearable. I tried it once, when I was little. All Confessors do. I cried for the rest of the day, and I’ve never felt anything like it since. Not Giller’s needles, and not Denna’s Agiel.” A rueful smile crept across Kahlan’s face as she remembered something else. “Or yours.”

Cara huffed in mock indignation, and Kahlan continued. “So I owe you thanks, for sparing me that. But there’s something else.”

Cara’s brow raised pointedly, but there was keen interest behind the expression.

“No one is permitted to cut a Confessor’s hair except another Confessor. No exceptions. Not even her mate.”

Cara’s mouth opened, but the words took a moment to follow. “Then why did you let me?”

“Because I trust you.” She gathered Cara into a gentle embrace, and inhaled deeply. A grin crept across her face as she pulled back and held Cara at arm’s length. “It’s gone. You smell like Cara again.”

The look on Cara’s face was unreadable at first, but Kahlan watched in content as a smile teased the corners of her lips.

****

Another two weeks passed, and while Kahlan grew ever closer to Cara, she repeatedly found herself wanting to do so many things that she couldn’t. She wanted to give Cara a kiss on the cheek and couldn’t; on colder nights she wanted to sleep with her arms around Cara but couldn’t. Most of all she simply wanted to tell her how much she cared for her.

As she grew increasingly sure of her own feelings, she became equally certain that Cara shouldn’t be told of these things. If she slipped and Cara realized what Kahlan wanted before she was ready, there was no telling what she might do. So Kahlan restrained her affections, and watched and waited.

She often thought back to small things. She remembered waking up with her head in Cara’s lap, bound to Sister Nicci by the maternity spell, and the naked worry in Cara’s eyes always brought a warm feeling to her chest. She remembered the fight she had with Cara in the crypt to keep her from taking her own life so that Kahlan could live, the halting admission of friendship before it, and their desperate grip as their breath left them after it. She remembered seeing Cara’s beautiful smile after she’d saved the Night Wisps from extinction. It was easy to assign deeper meaning to the memories now.

Kahlan gazed up at the stars from her bedroll, listening to crickets sing and Zedd snore, and wondered, not for the first time, how long it would be before Cara could see past her own armor. It had been a month since they’d left the Pillars, and they were getting closer to Aydindril.

Richard had grown to accept being apart from Kahlan. He might still be expecting her to come running back one day, but she had explained everything she could to him, and it was all she could do. She was relieved when he gave up on the Wizard’s lessons and resumed his usual role of woods guide mixed with Seeker. Zedd seemed to know exactly what was going on. It didn’t surprise Kahlan, but she was glad the Wizard respected her unspoken wishes and didn’t say a word to anyone, including herself.

Kahlan turned to her side and looked at the silhouette of the Mord-Sith standing silent watch on the other end of the camp. She sighed and sat up, grabbing a strip of dried venison and a waterskin from her pack before rising. She walked slowly to the dark shape, touching Cara lightly on the shoulder when she reached her.

“Not even trying anymore?” Cara asked quietly, glancing pointedly at Kahlan’s feet.

Kahlan almost smiled. She’d forgotten about her hastily made vow to catch Cara unawares. “Come on,” she whispered.

She set off into the forest, and she heard Cara padding quietly behind her. When they had reached sufficient distance to talk without disturbing the others, Kahlan turned to her and offered the venison and waterskin. Moonlight revealed a soft smile on Cara’s face, and she took the venison and sat cross-legged on the forest floor, tearing the strip in half with her teeth. Cara was smiling more these days, it seemed. Kahlan joined her on the bed of leaves and accepted the offered meal from the blonde.

Kahlan cleared her throat. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this now,” she began. “I just wanted you to know. It’s about what happened by the lake.”

Cara canted her head, her interest piqued.

“It’s not just one release tied to another,” Kahlan explained slowly. “If only it were that simple…Confessors would have an easier time.”

“What makes it not simple?” Cara asked.

“When a Confessor begins—”

She was stopped short by a hand on her own. “You’re not just ‘a Confessor’. Tell me why I can’t help you, Kahlan.”

“I…” She paused to take a breath, and Cara’s hand loosened its hold but stayed where it was. “My hold on my power…it doesn’t always wait for me. I’m normally able to control it, keep it back until I finish, but not always. I can feel it surging back and forth, and sometimes it breaks free before my own release.” She cleared her throat. “If it does, it’s usually just before, but…” She shrugged her shoulders helplessly, hoping Cara would understand. “That’s why we can’t just…be careful.”

Cara was silent, and slowly removed her hand. “Oh,” she said softly. “So I couldn’t even.”

Kahlan shook her head. “I won’t risk it, Cara. Especially not with you,” she added quietly.

“I would die if I…”

“Yes, Cara.”

Cara raised her head suddenly, and Kahlan could tell she was about to say something important. “It would be worth it,” the Mord-Sith said firmly.

“Cara!” Kahlan recoiled at the thought, almost jumping to her feet. “Don’t say that.” She was caught completely off guard by the sadness in Cara’s eyes, and it occurred to her that Cara had been nursing a want as powerful as her own, and for far longer.

“You could always fall in love with me,” Kahlan blurted. She was barely able to keep her hand from flying to her mouth.

“Mord-Sith can’t love,” Cara replied. “It’s impossible. It’s one of the things we’re broken of.”

Kahlan blinked. Cara hadn’t laughed, or smirked, or huffed. She just sat before Kahlan, as broken as she’d ever seen her. “I don’t believe that,” Kahlan said firmly. She risked raising a hand to Cara’s face, and it wasn’t her imagination that Cara leaned into her touch, however slightly. “Everyone can love. Even you, Cara.”

“How can you know?” Cara asked, almost bitterly.

“Confessors see things in people that they and others can’t.”

“I am Mord-Sith,” Cara reminded her. “You can’t read me like a common villager.”

“You’re right, I can’t read Mord-Sith.” She raised her other hand, and she cupped both of Cara’s cheeks. “But I see it in you anyway. You are more than your red leather, and you’re more than your training. Especially to me.” She felt Cara’s jaw tighten against her hands, and she leaned forward over Cara’s lap and gathered her into her arms. Kahlan hugged her close, desperately hoping Cara would hear and understand her words.

It was hard to tell in the darkness, but Cara’s eyes looked reddened when she pulled away, and the Mord-Sith quickly tore loose a piece of venison and chewed on it savagely. She swallowed, and asked a question with a surprisingly steady voice. “Did you think of me?”

Kahlan answered without hesitation. “Every time since.”

Cara nodded. “I hope you don’t mind then, that I do the same.”

“No, Cara. I think it’s the closest we’ll get.” Kahlan sincerely hoped it was a lie. She hesitated, not sure she wanted to know the answer to the question she was about to ask. “For how long? Have you?”

“Longer than I should have.”

Kahlan nodded and bit off a strip of venison as her thoughts whirled. Cara hadn’t recoiled from her sudden slip. Maybe there was hope.


	4. Savior

She missed the silence of her quarters; there was always noise out here in the wilderness. It grated on her, wearing her down, and she found herself turning increasingly often to the small comfort afforded by replacing the sounds of the wild with the grunts and groans of pain from her pet.

She’d brought him as an afterthought, but she was quite sure she would have gone mad by now without him. Still, she had to hold back. She didn’t have the Wizard at her disposal, and the Breath of Life could only resurrect and heal life-ending injuries; smaller hurts that slowed travel remained. So she restrained herself, bottling and storing her rancor for the one it truly belonged to.

Every time she woke up under the trees and branches, she was reminded of waking up in the woods outside Stowcroft. She remembered taking those first painful breaths, feeling the first of the countless jolts of pain in her chest as her heart resumed its rhythm, and each time she did, she let her hatred grow.

They’d kept the same pace for weeks, and she was growing used to the long days spent in the saddle. The two Sisters she brought to accompany her, chosen for their loyalty—or fear, it was all the same to her—were mostly silent, talking only to each other and the mercenary captain.

He was gathering his men as they drew ever closer to their target. He told her he hoped for six or more, but only three had joined them thus far. It might be enough, but she wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating her foes. Not when she was so close. So she gradually refined her plan, changing things as they came to mind. It was just simple enough to work, especially if the thick-headed Seeker was still their leader.

The leagues melted away under the hooves of her mount, and she wondered what the Mother Confessor was thinking. If she had any idea how quickly her own end was approaching.

****

Cara snapped a branch in half and added it to the kindling already under her arm. Kahlan had something on her mind; that much was obvious. The brunette had been acting strangely around her for the past few days, as if she was hoarding some wonderful secret, and had been throwing her indecipherable glances since Richard and Zedd left early that afternoon. When the two had eaten their small early dinner in comfortable silence—comfortable for Cara, anyway—Kahlan had appeared constantly on the verge of speaking.

It wasn’t until Cara came back with arms full of kindling for their small fire that Kahlan finally worked up the courage to speak. She was sitting cross legged on the forest floor, poking absentmindedly at the embers of the fire with a lengthy stick. “I wonder when they’ll get back,” she offered, as if to no one in particular.

Cara sighed, dropped the kindling to her feet by the fire, and let her hands fall to her hips. “Two days, but you knew that. Try again.”

Kahlan looked up guiltily. “What do you mean?”

“That is most definitely not what you’ve been thinking about. Out with it, Kahlan.”

Kahlan blushed, obviously not expecting to be called out so quickly. “I…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

Kahlan gave her a small smile. “We’re friends, right?”

Cara moved to her side and lowered herself down with a sigh. “Yes. Now that we have the obvious out of the way, what’s this about? We might have all night, but I’d like to sleep at some point.”

The brunette laughed nervously and shifted beside her. “It’s just. I don’t want to put that at risk. Our friendship.” Her voice softened, and her gaze turned away from Cara to lock on the fire before them. “We’ve grown closer since we left the Pillars, Cara. I became aware of something after I left Richard. That closeness…it goes back farther. And over the past few weeks, I’ve realized something, and become more and more sure of it.” She paused and cleared her throat. “I’ve grown to care about you more than any friend has a right to.”

Kahlan hooked a lock of hair behind her ear and turned her eyes to search Cara’s, and Cara was barely able to hide an inexplicable rising fear. She was losing control, quickly. Kahlan bit her lip before continuing slowly in a voice barely above a whisper. “I have feelings that I don’t want to hide anymore. Feelings for you, Cara. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I was just afraid that you…Cara?”

Cara had slammed her eyes shut as the fear broke free and turned to panic. Hearing the words irrevocably changed her world. Cara’s carefully constructed walls were swept away, and her thoughts and emotions rushed through her in an unrestrained torrent. She was utterly defenseless; it was too much too fast. The Mother Confessor couldn’t be saying these things. Not to her.

When she opened her eyes to see Kahlan’s hand reaching for hers, Cara yanked her own away. Kahlan looked stricken, as if she’d just taken an arrow in her chest, and Cara tore her gaze from the sight. She had to get away.

“Cara?” She felt Kahlan’s eyes on her, but didn’t dare to turn her head and look at her. “Say something,” Kahlan pleaded.

Cara stood mechanically and tried to keep her voice level. “I’m going hunting. I’ll be back soon.” She crossed the camp and barely had the presence of mind to grab her bow on her way into the forest. The silence was thick and oppressive behind her, but she didn’t turn around or glance back. She couldn’t; she knew that the look on Kahlan’s face would burn into her memory, and she was afraid the flames might never go out.

****

Cara trudged forward, taking step after step. The sun was setting and darkness was growing around her. She should be going back, but she’d found the trail of a sizable deer; it was a welcome distraction and served as a task for her tortured mind to fall into.

Maybe she had imagined the entire exchange. Maybe she could go back, and Kahlan would just casually ask where she had been. They could go back to their comfortable coexistence. The way they were before.

Then the memory of Kahlan’s face, the naked hurt Cara had put there, reached her and Cara slowed her pace. She couldn’t ignore this. She had hurt Kahlan, badly.

There was no going back. Things had changed.

She broke from the treeline into a small clearing with a massive oak at the center. The deer’s tracks melted in with those of countless other animals, and Cara sighed. It wasn’t fair. She had just grown used to having Kahlan as a friend.

If she couldn’t find the tracks continuing on the other side, she would go back. She had no idea what she would tell Kahlan. Maybe it would be best not to say anything at all.

The Mother Confessor wanted Cara to accept and return her feelings, but Cara wasn’t sure how to devote herself to this woman—deserving though she might be. She had spent long years devoted to and in the service of another, but she knew the Mother Confessor would require something wholly different. Cara would have to change. Kahlan might consider her a friend, but in her circumstances, the Mother Confessor would have little use for a Mord-Sith.

Yet there was a voice in the back of her mind that had broken free occasionally during her long walk. It told her that none of this was needed, and that she didn't have to run. It told her that everything Kahlan had said to her was true for Cara as well. That she too had a deeper want, that Kahlan was far more than a friend. It told her that Kahlan, regardless of position or title, wouldn’t want Cara to change.

But all those things were impossible.

She was halfway across the clearing when a loud metallic sound cracked in the air, a bolt of sharp agony shot up her leg, and she collapsed.

She quickly wrestled the shock of pain under control and looked down. It was a rusted hunter's trap, set for some type of large game and then abandoned. The teeth had clamped shut around her ankle and sank deep into her muscle and flesh. She tried to move her foot, and was immediately rewarded with a slight movement and fresh wave of pain. Cara collapsed back with a sigh to the leaf-covered floor and toyed with the flood of pain. She played with it, focused on it, gave it a shape and a color.

****

Night had fallen and Cara realized she was in trouble. Her hands were slick with blood from trying to work the trap open to no avail; she’d only succeeded in working the teeth deeper into her flesh. She couldn’t walk, and even if she could she wouldn’t get far. A few paces, to be exact. The trap was anchored to the oak in the center of the glade with a rusted iron chain. Had she not been so distracted she would have seen it.

Richard and Zedd would return from their resupply trip in two days. If she couldn’t escape, she had to wait two days before Richard could track her trail and find her. Two days, unless something went wrong. Unless Richard spotted a distressed villager or farm animal. Two days would turn into three, or more.

Something always went wrong.

Cara was quite familiar with the limits of the human body, and intimately so with her own. She could survive a full moon cycle with no food, but no more than three days without water.

A wolf howl sounded far off in the distance, and she resigned herself to whatever fitful sleep might come in the face of such consistent pain. An image came into her mind, unbeckoned, of Kahlan sitting alone by the campfire, waiting for her. The picture brought forth a different kind of pain, equally sharp.

****

Kahlan woke with a start, eyes flying open and searching frantically around the darkness of the camp. She’d lost count of how many times the smallest noise had woken her so far that night, and knew this time wouldn’t be the last. She blinked away the haze of sleep and pulled herself up on her arms to look to Cara’s bedroll.

It was empty. Cara hadn’t come back. Kahlan tried to reassure herself, tried to tell herself that Cara would be back in the morning. She’d stayed away all night before. She would come strolling back into camp at first light, and probably wouldn’t want to speak to Kahlan for days. Kahlan would bear the punishment—she deserved it.

****

A bird call woke Cara with a start sometime mid-morning, and she immediately snapped her eyes back shut as fresh pain flooded her leg. So it wasn’t a dream after all. Somehow she’d slept through the rest of the night, or if she’d woken she didn’t remember it. Cara sat up slowly and took stock of her situation. She had her bow, her Agiels, and…well, her leathers.

The forest glade was wide and open, devoid of trees and brush barring the ancient oak at its center. Sunlight filtered and played through leaf covered branches spread over the clearing. Suddenly and inexplicably, she imagined Kahlan here, waking beside her and squinting against the morning sun before offering her usual sleepy smile and morning greeting.

Cara shook her head to clear it and decided to try standing. Slowly, carefully, she started to rise, flexing her left leg, and braced for the rush of pain that would be flooding her right. She used the longbow as a crutch as she lifted herself up, and took three painful steps, leaning heavily on the bow, to the thick trunk of the oak she was tethered to. The heavy iron trap weighed down and pulled on her foot, and she sighed with relief when she placed her back against the bark. She looked down and saw fresh blood seeping over her red leather.

Cara needed to take complete stock of her surroundings; she needed to see what was on the other side of the tree. It was a trivial task, but her leg screamed in protest as she slowly worked her way around the trunk. She was rewarded with a welcome sight—a winterberry bush, full of ripe berries.

She glanced down at the chain, estimating the length, and narrowed her eyes. It would be close. The winterberries could wait; right now, more than anything, she needed the pain to stop.

****

Kahlan paced furiously around the camp. The afternoon sun was beating down mercilessly, and Cara was still not back. Something had to be wrong. The hurt she felt at Cara’s departure had turned into incredible guilt over the course of the morning; she had pushed Cara too hard and too fast. As the day wore on the guilt had given way to fear.

Cara had never stayed away this long before, not without letting her know. Even given their situation, Cara simply wouldn’t do this to her. It wasn’t like her.

Cara had doubtlessly been a wreck when she left last night, and it was easy to imagine some kind of accident had taken place. Maybe bandits had caught her unawares and taken her prisoner; maybe she was trapped somewhere.

She hooked loose hair behind her ear and set off once again in the direction Cara had left. Kahlan ventured a little farther each time she left the camp to search for her, but she knew she was no tracker.

She went just a little deeper into the forest and searched the trees and brush for any sign, desperate for a glimpse of red. Something had happened to Cara. She needed her help. Kahlan stopped walking and stood still, suddenly fighting back tears. So many times Cara had taken care of her, protected her. Now Cara needed her, and she was useless. Helpless. The worst part? This was her fault. She let Cara’s name rip from her throat in a scream, and closed her eyes as the forest swallowed it up. She listened, tears streaming down her cheeks, for any sign of Cara’s voice in answer.

A breeze ruffled the branches and leaves around her, mocking her with their sighing and rustling. A second cry died in her throat and she turned on her heel and headed back, trying to tell herself that Cara was fine. The Mord-Sith was hardly defenseless. She could take on a full band of rogue thieves, even caught unawares, and come away without a scratch. Actually, she had.

Kahlan tried to imagine Cara waiting for her at the camp, hips canted and leaning lightly on her bow. She would raise an eyebrow and inquire about her state of distress, and Kahlan would only be able to offer a relieved laugh. She quickened her pace as she grew nearer and finally burst back into the camp.

It was empty. She took in a deep breath and started gathering her pack. She'd wasted enough time. Richard would be able to find her.

****

Cara grit her teeth in exertion and stretched her body along the forest floor as much as she could. Heavy breaths sent leaves flying as she gripped the end of her bow and strained, willing her arm to become just a little longer. The winterberry bush stayed just out of reach of the bow's tip. If she could just knock a couple off…

She collapsed. It was no use. She was certain berries didn't have souls, but she cursed them all to the Keeper just in case. The ripe berries would have provided her with much needed sustenance, and they were high in water content as well.

Cara needed water, badly. She had worked up a sweat trying to force the trap open again, only to snap the rusted release pin and succeed in worrying the wound further. The telltale signs of infection were starting to show themselves in the form of angry red blotches around the wound. She lifted herself up with effort and crawled slowly back to the shaded side of the tree—her prison.

The sun was a couple marks from setting, and she tried to figure out her next move. Cara knew if she was going to break free it would have to be before sunset. The way her throat was parched and her tongue felt thick, she knew that by the following morning the infection from the wound and the lack of water would render her unable to exert herself in any way.

Her eyes settled on a nondescript flat rock mostly hidden by leaves. Her eyes narrowed and she craned her neck, looking for another. There—and another. She braced herself and crawled slowly, collecting the two large rocks and arriving at the flat one.

After seating herself and laying the chain carefully across the wide stone, she raised the larger rock above her head and struck down as hard as she could. Nothing. She inspected the chain, and could only see white marks where stone had collided with metal. She struck again, and again. The fourth time her wrist hit the chain as the rock in her hand broke into pieces. It was no match for iron, rusted though it was.

She set her jaw and inspected the second rock. It was covered in dirt, but maybe it was hard enough. Cara raised it and struck the chain with a shout. The rock split in two and sliced her palm, and she hurled the pieces into the forest, so far she couldn’t hear them land.

****

Cara reclined against the wide trunk as night settled around her. A half-moon softly illuminated the hateful winterberry bush across the clearing, and a wolf’s howl pierced the night air—much closer than last night. Cara raised her head slightly and was greeted by a wave of dizziness. It was starting. She had cut short her three days by sweating out precious fluids in the heat, and now she would pay the price.

She had managed to resign herself to waiting for an unlikely rescue, but her mind would not accept the thought of dying laying against this cursed tree. She had always imagined a glorious death in battle, painted with the blood of her foes as she drew her last breath. The idea of expiring to fever and lack of water was maddening.

She had been gone for a full night and day. Kahlan probably thought the worst; she probably thought Cara had left her, that she was staying away intentionally. She probably thought Cara never wanted to see her again. Nothing was further from the truth. Right now, there was nothing Cara wanted more than reassurance that she could see Kahlan one more time before she died.

Even faced with the prospect of death, Cara couldn’t get enough of a handle on her feelings to give Kahlan an honest answer—even if Kahlan really were here in front of her, right now. She wanted more time; she needed time to figure things out. And she couldn’t do it alone; she needed Kahlan’s help. She needed someone to tell her what the feeling in her chest meant when Kahlan was near, what it meant that Cara sometimes couldn’t help smiling just because Kahlan was. What it meant that she felt more alive just sitting at Kahlan’s side than she ever had leading her Sisters in battle.

She drew in a slow breath and lazily traced the cut on her palm as her head started pounding. It was all so wrong. The ever-present throbbing and pulsing pain in her leg was made worse by the fact that there was no need for it…no purpose, no end result. Cara had suffered far worse physical pain while hanging from chains in the training room, but even that had been for a reason—whether as punishment, a lesson, or both. This was nothing but bad luck. Fate.

Cara smirked at the thought of Richard's precious fate. _I don't believe in prophecy_ , he had said so many times. _We make our own fate_. His voice echoed through her head and her body's attempt at mocking laughter quickly turned a wracking cough.

Her head felt light, and she pressed her palms into the soil beside her to stop the world from spinning. Closing her eyes didn't help. Cara’s face flushed and tingled, and a flash of sudden and unpleasant heat spread throughout her body and crawled across her skin. An uneasy feeling formed and grew in her stomach as she took shallow breaths. Suddenly she twisted her body, turned to her side and retched painfully and violently. It was dry; her stomach was already empty.

She sucked deep breaths as the nausea left her. Her skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat from the flash of heat, and despite her heated muscles her skin was soon covered in chills and goosebumps. Cara shivered. The fever was taking hold.

Her tongue was thick and dry, her throat was parched and scratched, her leg was protesting every second of its existence, and her mind was frayed from the constant pain. Cara slumped down against the trunk at her back and let her mind fall back into thoughts of Kahlan, taking refuge in the memories of soft blue eyes and a warm smile.

****

A rustle of leaves woke Cara in the darkness, and she squinted and saw a pair of yellow eyes glowing in the underbrush. The wolf padded closer into the moonlight and stopped beside the winterberry bush. It sat down on its haunches; a red tongue lolled out and white teeth flashed as it panted quietly. It seemed content to observe as it sat regarding her placidly, but Cara doubted its interests would remain so harmless.

She reached for an Agiel. The soft whine pierced the air, and it was the only indication she had they were still working. Her body was numb, and her muscles felt thick. The wolf cocked its head at the sound, then stood and loped quickly back into the underbrush. The Agiel fell from her hand as she slumped back against the oak, and absolute silence choked the night air.

****

Cara heard the soft patter of water on dry leaves, and opened her eyes to see a light rain falling in the darkness. She sighed in relief and slowly crawled out from under the branches of the oak, dragging her foot and chain behind her. She collapsed onto her back and faced the black starless sky, but no water met her heated and flushed skin. She pulled off a leather glove and reached out above her head and to her side—she heard it all around her, but felt nothing.

The rain started falling heavier; thick wet drops bombarded the forest floor right next to her, but not a single drop touched her body. She crawled as far as the chain would allow, stretching out her hand, desperate for the feel of rain on her skin. It fell in a drenching torrent around her, loud and mocking, and she remained completely dry.

She twisted her body, turning onto her side, and carefully picked up a wide leaf with a small amount of water held on its curved surface. She held it above her mouth, but the leaf turned to ash in her fingers and drifted down to coat her chapped lips and swollen tongue.

****

“Wake up, Cara.” A stern voice, one she recognized, floated through her mind and she woke to a taut smile and hard blue eyes. A dark form clad in red leather crouched in front of her.

“Mistress Nathair.” Cara could barely raise her voice above a whisper. She looked younger; far younger than she was when she had died beside Cara in Stowcroft. She looked the same age she was when she had trained and broken Cara.

“Oh now, Cara. We both know that’s not what you call me. Not really. You have a different name for me,” she said softly. “A secret name that you’ve never told a soul, living or dead.”

Cara’s head fell. “Snake.” She had given Nathair the name, earned by her wicked smile, the day she was taken from her father’s side, and it had never left her lips. Not once.

The smile broadened. “Much better. Now we can talk.” Snake paused thoughtfully, then leaned in and backhanded Cara, her dark blonde braid swinging. Cara's head snapped to the side and she tasted blood from her cracked lips. “You are pathetic,” Snake snarled. “You bring disgrace to the name Mord-Sith. What happened to you, Cara? I made you strong, but this…” She laughed contemptuously. “Done in by a hunter's trap. How very far you have fallen.”

Snake stood and kicked the trap around Cara's leg, and numbness disappeared in a flood of excruciating agony. Cara screamed at the sudden shock of it and coughed up blood, spitting it on the ground between her legs.

Snake laughed as Cara hung her head and breathed heavily. “That shouldn't be more than a pinprick to a true Mord-Sith. You have grown weak. Not that it matters. Not anymore.” She paused as Cara finally looked up. “Did you know you’re going to die here?” Snake asked casually. “It won’t be long. This is killing you.” She placed her foot on Cara’s and stepped down for a moment, putting her weight on it; Cara’s eyes rolled back in anguish, but she didn’t make a sound. “The wound has poisoned your body,” Snake continued calmly. “But you don’t mind, do you Cara? You don’t have anything to live for, do you?”

Cara stared at her blankly. The pain in her leg was screaming at her. She was drowning in it, and she didn't have the strength left to fight it. She could barely hear Snake’s words through the blood rushing in her ears. She forced the words out in a whisper through clenched teeth. “I do.”

“Wrong,” Snake spat. “You have nothing.”

Cara raised her head defiantly. “I have her.”

“The Mother Confessor doesn’t care about you,” Snake laughed. “She’s using you. You are a tool to her, just as you are to Richard. Just as you were to the true Lord Rahl. You are, and will always be, exactly what I made you. Nothing more.”

Cara was silent, and Snake cocked her head. “Oh,” she said softly. “Didn’t you think of that? What a coincidence that Kahlan comes running to you right after she left the Seeker’s side.” Her voice was dripping with mocking sadness. “She was so lonely, you see, and who better to use as company and then throw aside than yourself.”

Cara swallowed and took refuge in what Kahlan had told her in the middle of the night only days ago. _You are more than your red leather, and you’re more than your training. Especially to me_. She thought back to the way her throat had tightened and her chest felt light, and she closed her eyes.

Snake struck her across the face, and her voice was hard and cold. “You think you have feelings for her, don’t you? You think you care for her. You seem to have forgotten something, Cara.”

She leaned in close, and Cara licked her bleeding lips and stared at her numbly. “I stole that from you,” Snake hissed. “I broke you of your compassion. Your ability to care, to feel. I watched it bleed from you onto the stone below.” She cocked her head. “Do you not remember?”

Cara did remember, and her head bowed. She remembered the slow and painful birth of the cold emptiness that she’d grown accustomed to over her many years of service. Until someone had made her feel something different.

“You didn’t take it from me,” Cara said firmly. “You buried it, and she woke it. Kahlan woke it.”

She looked up defiantly, but Snake was gone. There was no trace, no sound of her parting. Cara was suddenly alone with her thoughts, her own last words echoing in her mind. The truth of them was just beginning to reach her when a different voice, gentle and very familiar, broke into her reverie. “Cara?”

Her head snapped up and she took in a sharp breath. A white form stood in the darkness at the edge of the trees, and Cara's ragged voice lifted from her torn throat. “Kahlan?”

The figure stepped forward into the moonlight and Cara winced; the silvery light reflected from the Confessor gown was impossibly bright. The figure approached slowly and Cara shielded her eyes, desperate to see the face she longed for.

Kahlan smiled gently, and sorrow radiated from blue eyes as she knelt in front of Cara. Sorrow poured from her touch as Kahlan reached for her cheek and wiped away tears Cara hadn’t felt fall. Sorrow weighted her voice as Kahlan spoke softly and her finger caressed Cara's split and swollen lip. “I'm here, Cara.”

Cara gazed into Kahlan's face and worked her jaw, trying to find words, but Kahlan stopped her. “Shhh. Don't talk,” she said quietly. She reached for Cara’s hand, hesitating, and then squeezed it. “Cara…your body is dying.”

Cara squeezed her eyes shut. “This isn't real.”

“No,” Kahlan confirmed softly.

“You're not real.”

Kahlan paused. “No,” she admitted. “I'm sorry.”

Cara was too exhausted to argue, and her mind was worn too thin to feel anything other than despair in its most base form. She bowed her head. “Why are you here? If I’m dying, why are you here?”

“Because you're not gone yet, and there is still hope.”

Cara merely looked at her with tired eyes.

“Cara, listen to me. Your body is very close to death; it is wracked and tortured by fever. This is your last refuge. To survive. Give yourself this chance. Hold on as long as you can.”

Cara was suddenly afraid Kahlan would melt away and disappear into the black night like her previous visitor. “Don't go.” She gripped Kahlan's hand with all the strength left in her. “Don't leave me.”

Kahlan placed her other hand over Cara's. “I won't leave you, Cara.”

Cara relaxed her aching muscles and leaned her back against the oak tree. Something felt different. She looked down and the trap was gone from her ankle. She flexed it, twisted it, and marveled at the lack of pain. She looked into Kahlan's face in wonderment. “Did you…”

Kahlan just smiled and stood, offering her hand to Cara. She took it, standing slowly, and breathed deep. There was a fallen tree just inside the treeline, and Cara indicated the log with a nod of her head. “Will you sit with me?”

Kahlan answered with a squeeze and a smile and they walked to take a seat beside each other. She was freed from her prison, even if only in her thoughts. Cara fixed her gaze at the moon above the treeline, and realized she felt strangely calm. “How long?”

Kahlan dipped her head. “You won't last until sunrise.”

“Oh. What happens then?”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that,” Kahlan answered sadly. “But I can answer your next question.”

Cara had it ready. “What does it mean that…my chest feels strange when she embraces me; that when she looks at me, and touches me it feels like…” She almost choked on the words, and Kahlan gave her hand a squeeze and waited patiently, letting Cara work it out for herself. “It feels like she’s telling me she loves me,” Cara rasped.

“Because she is,” Kahlan told her softly. “And do you know why you feel those things?”

Cara waited until she could speak clearly. “Because I care for her. I have feelings for her.”

Kahlan smiled in answer, and Cara raised her free hand to wipe away fresh wetness from her eyes. It was cheating, she supposed. This wasn’t really Kahlan. But then again, Cara already knew the answers. She just needed to hear them.

****

Kahlan cursed the darkness under her breath as she lifted the torch and led the horses through the forest. Richard was having a hard time reading the trail. Moonlight was simply insufficient, and Zedd was little help. They had met her breathless at the gates to the town and quickly acquired four horses. Her companions had mentioned never seeing the Mother Confessor so quick to pull rank, but her fierce glare had silenced them both. They had ridden hard back to the camp, packed it up in record time, and the party set out after Cara's trail immediately.

“This is impossible!” Richard gripped his sword hilt with his free hand and swung around, his torch sputtering angrily. His brow was furrowed in frustration. “I'm not even sure this is the same trail. We have to wait until sunrise.” He indicated the faintest glow of dawn to the east with a nod of his head.

“No!” Kahlan shouted. She stepped forward as Zedd and Richard stared at her. “We can’t stop. We have to keep going.” Her eyes darted between the two of them. “What if she's just ahead? What if we wait, and she dies?”

“Kahlan…” Richard spread his hands. “I want Cara safe as much as you do, but we've been tracking her for most of the night. You said yourself we don't know if she's even in danger. It's almost sunrise, and we can be sure of what we're doing once we have reliable…” He glanced at Zedd. “…light.”

“My boy, wizard's fire is not meant to illuminate things. It's meant to burn them,” Zedd explained once again.

Kahlan wordlessly dropped the reins and stepped between the quibbling men and into the forest. She felt them both staring at her back as she pushed forward, and heard the Wizard whisper something to Richard. The Seeker called out after her. “Kahlan, wait!”

She was done waiting, and she picked up her pace to a slow run. She would not be too late. Twenty paces later she broke from the underbrush into a large clearing, and froze. The dull gleam of dirty leather shone beneath the sprawling branches of a massive oak, and the dark shape wasn’t moving. She felt Richard’s hand clasp over her shoulder as he caught up to her, but she tore away from him and rushed forward into the glade.

A strangled cry rose from her throat when she saw the bloody mess that was Cara’s ankle, and she dropped the torch beside her to lower her ear to Cara’s mouth. Kahlan didn’t have to listen to know Cara was still alive; the heat rolling off her skin was enough. Still, the shallow rattling breath beneath her brought sudden tears to her eyes, and she quickly turned her head around to scream for Zedd.

****

Cara woke into a world of fire and pain. Her leathers chafed as she stiffened; her skin was sensitive and flushed and she was drenched in hot sweat. Blood roared in her ears and the trap's iron teeth tore at her leg as a spasm rolled through her body. Her aching muscles cried out in protest and she sucked in a deep painful breath.

Her eyes flew open when a drop of something wet landed on her forehead. Cara became aware of hands on her face and a dark form kneeling over her; torchlight flickered somewhere to her side and voices slowly worked their way through the fog clouding her mind. Someone was calling her name, over and over, and another drop hit her cheek.

The torchlight grew brighter and revealed tear-filled blue eyes; the haze of pain rolled back and she remembered where she was, what had happened, and whose eyes she was gazing into. She could barely whisper. “Kahlan.”

Kahlan broke into a relieved smile above her, and all Cara could think was that she never wanted to be apart from that smile again. Kahlan turned her head and shouted, “Water!”

Cara became aware of a tingling sensation, strangely separate from the pain in her leg. With immense effort she raised her head and saw Zedd seated at her feet, eyes closed in concentration. Tendrils of faint blue light flowed from his palms into her leg, and a sweat was breaking out on his weathered face.

A hand suddenly supported her head, holding it up, and a waterskin appeared in front of her face. “Drink. Just a little,” Kahlan's soft voice instructed.

Water ran over her tongue and down her throat; she could feel it cooling the searing heat as it flowed into her body. She tried to gulp down more, but Kahlan stopped her. “Wait. Just a little bit at a time. The fever will break soon and you'll be cold. Richard is starting a fire.”

Cara raised her arm from her side and her hand found Kahlan's face. “You're real,” she whispered.

Kahlan smiled and moved the waterskin to her mouth. “Yes, now drink. Just a little.”

Cara shook her head and wrapped her hand around Kahlan's neck, pulling her closer. “Kahlan, I’m sorry,” she rasped. She cleared her throat, painfully, and her voice grew stronger. “Will you stay with me?”

The smile disappeared from Kahlan's face. She lowered her head and laid a soft kiss to Cara's temple, and took Cara's hands in her own before whispering to her. “I will be right here, Cara, for as long as you want me.”


	5. Surrender

She paced the ground in front of him. “You’re sure? It’s them?”

“Very,” the captain assured her. “My scout has good eyes.”

She stopped. “Good. I need you to escort him there.” She nodded at her pet, sitting contentedly behind her.

His brow furrowed. “Mistress? You don’t want to go yourself?”

“I need information, and he is uniquely qualified among us to get it,” she explained brusquely. “There’s no way the Seeker will turn away such a pitiful supplicant.”

She watched as understanding dawned on him, and he nodded. “Whenever you want us to leave, then.”

“One moment.” She turned and knelt in front of her pet. “I have a job for you,” she told him softly. “Do you want to do something for me?”

His eyes widened and he smiled as best he could at the opportunity to serve her. “Anything, Mistress.”

****

Kahlan cast her eyes about the darkness of the forest, pausing occasionally to stare into the dying embers of the fire and glance at the sleeping form beside her. It had taken all day for her to slowly realize that Cara was, in fact, alive and safe. Kahlan had only to reach out and touch her; she did so furtively now and then, laying a hand on her shoulder to feel the warmth, brushing hair away from her closed eyes, and watching her chest rise and fall in what Kahlan hoped was dreamless and peaceful sleep.

They had made camp in the clearing around the massive oak after tending to Cara, and the day passed quickly. Kahlan had kept her word and not left Cara’s side as the blonde slept the sun away, waking periodically for water before wordlessly drifting back off. Zedd had also been napping on and off—bringing Cara back from the brink of death had taken its toll on him—and Richard, apparently feeling useless, had chopped far more firewood than was necessary. When night approached she had volunteered to take first watch.

She became aware of a change in the quiet breathing beside her, and looked over to see Cara’s eyes open and regarding her. “You’re awake,” Kahlan offered with a small smile.

Cara blinked and was silent for a moment. “It’s dark.”

“You slept most of the day. How are you feeling?”

“Oh.” Cara grew quiet again, not answering, but her eyes didn’t stray from Kahlan’s. “About what…Kahlan I’m sorry. I—”

“Shush,” Kahlan quickly admonished. “How can that be the first thing you think of? I’m just glad you’re alright. Besides, this is my fault. I was being…foolish. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, that’s what I’m trying to say. I’m—”

“Cara, with what you’ve just gone through…we can have that conversation later.” _If at all_ , she added in thought.

Cara sighed and moved to sit up, and a grimace flashed across her face before disappearing just as quickly. “I thought the Wizard healed me.”

“Your leg needs time to heal on its own. He did what he could, but he said the rest is up to you.”

Cara mumbled something unintelligible and flopped onto her back. After staring up into the stars for a moment, her voice was suddenly quiet. “I’m cold.”

Kahlan rose quickly. “I’ll get you another blanket.”

“No.”

She looked down at the Mord-Sith, confused. “What do you mean, no?”

“I’m cold,” Cara repeated.

“Then why don’t you want me to get you a blanket?”

“I don’t want a blanket.” Cara’s voice dropped to a point barely above a whisper, but wasn’t lacking confidence. “I want you.”

Kahlan blinked. Surely she had misunderstood Cara. She stared down at the blonde, and clear eyes looked back at her. No, she wasn’t mistaken.

Kahlan found herself stepping to Cara’s side, lowering herself down close beside her. Then Cara was wordlessly turning her back to Kahlan, relaxing into her, and Kahlan pressed herself close. She carefully avoided her bandage-wrapped leg and reached her arm over the blonde’s side; Cara took her hand and placed it over her heart. She held it there, firmly, and Kahlan felt the warmth in her breast.

To be this close to Cara, to know that Cara was in her arms and wanted to be there, made Kahlan’s heart swell in her chest. She bowed her head against Cara’s shoulder, closed her eyes, and breathed deep. Kahlan wanted to commit this feeling, this moment, the scent, the surprising softness, and the warmth, to memory. And Cara was quite warm; Kahlan was loath to break the spell of silence, but she had to be sure. “You’re not cold,” she whispered.

There was a short pause, a single rise and fall of Cara’s chest, and a single word, somehow reassuring, quiet, and warm all at once, came forth. “No.”

That was all the conversation they needed.

****

“Zedd, I feel like I should be angry, or sad. Something,” Richard muttered.

It was early in the morning, and he was working on fashioning a crutch for Cara from a length of sturdy maple. Kahlan and Cara were asleep in each other’s arms, and the Wizard and Seeker hadn’t wanted to wake them. Zedd shrugged. “After what Cara went through, I’m glad you’re not begrudging her comfort,” he offered carefully.

Richard shot him a glance. “It’s more than that. I’m not blind. I just…I don’t understand. I’m pretty sure I should be upset. It’s Kahlan,” he pointed out.

“But you’re not upset?”

“Not…I don’t think so.” His knife tore a long strip of bark from the staff, and he watched it curl against the blade.

Zedd clapped him on the shoulder before wandering off to find something to eat.

****

“Cara, stop. You’ll make it worse instead of better.”

The Mord-Sith turned and glared at her, but Kahlan crossed her arms and stood her ground. It had been two days since Cara’s rescue, and she was pushing herself too hard.

Cara resumed limping her way around the clearing, circling the oak with the aid of the crutch she had promptly began using as a walking staff. Her face was breaking out in a sweat, and Kahlan knew it wasn’t just from the sun. There were times a Mord-Sith’s exemplary pain tolerance was a bad thing—this was one of them. She almost stamped her foot in frustration. “I mean it, Cara. If you make it worse, we’ll be here even longer.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you,” Cara snapped.

Richard raised an eyebrow at Kahlan. He was reclined against the oak, whittling away with a knife at his latest carving: a sheep. A bear, a fox, and a wolf all lay in a line beside him. Kahlan shot him a death glare, and the eyebrow lowered as he returned intently to his work.

Kahlan tried to soften her expression as she turned her face to Cara, but her frustration at watching Cara hurt herself was evident in her tone. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. Please stop and rest.”

There was a loud pop behind them, followed by a muttered exclamation. “Bags!” Kahlan turned to see a light cloud of dust and ash descending onto the Wizard. He’d grown incredibly bored, and as such was trying to remember and practice miscellaneous spells he’d learned in his youth. Kahlan thought they were lucky no harm had come to any of them.

Cara glowered at her. “I’ll rest when this cursed leg is better.”

Kahlan bit her lip and turned away. Pleading never did work very well on Cara, but she felt it was all she could do. A change had come over the Mord-Sith the instant she woke up and saw Richard approaching her with the crutch. She had shut down, completely, only speaking when necessary. A look of iron determination had taken up permanent residence in her eyes, and she spent every waking moment either trying to walk or collapsing after doing so. Kahlan wasn’t sure how much longer she could watch this go on.

****

The bright morning sun was filtering through the branches of the oak when Kahlan sat down by Cara the next day. She was determined to do something, anything, to break through this wall around Cara, between them, before it became permanent. Cara was sitting with her back to the trunk, staring customarily off into space, not even acknowledging her presence. Richard had mentioned going hunting for more hardwood for his growing pile of increasingly large and detailed carvings, Zedd jumped at the chance for something to do, and the two had just set off at a leisurely pace into the forest.

Kahlan took in a deep breath, only to slam her mouth shut in surprise when Cara spoke first. “I’m still trapped.” Her tone was neutral and factual, as if she was observing the weather and not revealing the hidden and secret inner workings of her mind.

It took Kahlan by surprise—not only had she volunteered such an insight, but now Kahlan understood more of why Cara was tormented so. Not only was she unable to walk freely and forced to depend on others, but they were still camped under the same tree she had been chained to and nearly died under. Kahlan suddenly felt incredibly thoughtless. “Cara, I’m so sorry. We can move camp—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cara scoffed. “I’m not letting anyone carry me or throw me over a horse. I’ll walk away from this place when I’ve earned the right.”

Kahlan sighed and looked the Mord-Sith in the eye. She was not going to want to hear this. “Cara, you need to stop trying to walk. It’s making your recovery take longer, and I know that on some level, you know that too. Let it rest, and it will heal faster.”

Cara looked away, her voice bitter. “What do you expect me to do? Sit here for days on end?”

“Yes,” Kahlan said simply. “It might be torture to you, but I have a feeling you’ve had worse. Besides, you’re not alone. You can talk to us. To me.”

Cara glanced at her before staring at the ground in front of her own legs. “I don’t know how,” she admitted.

Kahlan blinked. The second plaintive insight in as many moments. “Well.” She offered Cara a broken smile. “I can talk enough for the both of us.”

Cara spent a moment in thought, then reached to the pack at her side. She pulled out a waterskin and tossed it to Kahlan with a sudden smirk. “You’ll be needing this.”

Kahlan caught it and laughed. “Where to begin?” She rearranged herself and slid to a more comfortable position against the trunk, closer to Cara. She leaned her head back, and cleared her throat. “When I was sixteen summers old, I traveled from the Valley of Thandore to the Confessor’s Palace in Aydindril to begin my formal training. I was used to having free rein at Thandore, and it didn’t take me long to get into trouble…”

****

The days passed quickly under the ancient oak, and Cara began to heal. They didn’t talk about the conversation that took place the night Cara left, and they didn’t speak a word about the night they spent in each other’s arms. Instead they talked about the past, and Cara learned more about this woman; the woman who was making Cara feel more and more whole.

They might not have spoken about the change between them, but it was there all the same. She began to notice things about Kahlan; things that she was sure were there all along. The way her voice rose and fell as she spoke, the way her gaze traveled over Cara’s own face, the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about her reign of terror over the Sisters of Light in Thandore. But Cara quickly realized that Kahlan’s past was far from pleasant. When they were alone, Kahlan shared the many parts of her life that made Cara clench her jaw and feel strange things—anger being the only one she recognized.

She noticed how Kahlan had started to emphasize parts of her stories with a hand on Cara’s shoulder, or her leg, and Cara became more and more used to these small touches as they grew in frequency. The short and chaste contact felt more intimate than any night she’d shared with a stranger in an inn, or any bed she’d shared with a Sister of the Agiel. She began wanting to seek out more of this contact from Kahlan.

After three days of stories, three days of Kahlan revealing herself and Cara listening in rapt attention, Cara found herself working up a sweat for the most unlikely of reasons. They were in their usual position, sitting side by side with their backs against the trunk, and Kahlan’s hands were resting easily on her lap. Cara was eyeing them nervously as Kahlan spoke, and after working up enough courage, she darted her hand into Kahlan’s lap and grabbed her own.

Kahlan froze and almost jumped up. “What is it, Cara?”

Cara looked away, but she didn’t answer and she didn’t let go, and she felt Kahlan relax beside her as realization dawned. “Oh,” Kahlan said softly.

She felt Kahlan shift a little closer against her, and Kahlan threaded their fingers together and rested their hands between them. Kahlan continued her story as if nothing had happened, but there was a smile in her voice, and when Cara bit her cheek and gave Kahlan’s hand an experimental squeeze, Kahlan returned it and edged herself closer still.

****

It was happening. Kahlan watched in barely concealed joy as Cara began to accept that she cared for Kahlan. And she did; Kahlan had never been surer of anything. The desperation in her grip when Cara had first held her hand with clear intent, the tentative smiles she shared when she was sure no one else could see, but most of all the way Cara looked at her. There was a softness in her eyes now that caught Kahlan off guard at times.

She had always known that underneath the sarcasm, underneath her armor, and underneath her façade of emotional control, there was another side of Cara. Kahlan had glimpsed it from time to time, but now Cara was growing comfortable with letting Kahlan see it, and it made Kahlan’s heart swell.

Cara was still very much herself; that much was certain. They hardly spent every waking moment alone together, and Kahlan enjoyed seeing her wit cutting Richard and Zedd down to size when they deserved it. There was one more thing that didn’t change—Cara still seemed reluctant to speak of their increasing closeness, and Kahlan now knew better than to try and force things. So she told Cara how she felt with every touch, and she felt Cara do the same.

The Mord-Sith had insisted she was fully able to take watch the second night after her rescue. They’d settled into a rhythm while they waited for her recovery; Kahlan took first watch, then Cara, then Richard and Zedd. It was during the overlap between their watches that magic happened of a different sort. Kahlan was on the verge of falling asleep, Cara was struggling to wake up, and they were very much alone together. It was during this time that Kahlan first risked a kiss to Cara’s cheek, and Cara’s smile afterward was like nothing she’d ever seen.

So it was that Kahlan found herself yawning while rousing Cara late one night. Cara looked up at her and blinked back sleep, then wordlessly rose with Kahlan’s help. They walked together, Cara leaning heavily on her, to Cara’s spot under the oak, and Cara didn’t let go of her hand after Kahlan had helped her lower herself to the ground against the trunk.

“It’s cold,” Cara offered in reply to her questioning glance. “You could bring your bedroll here.”

Kahlan smiled. It wasn’t cold, not at all. “Alright.”

****

“He’s a little…off, don’t you think?” Cara asked. She had pulled Kahlan away from their noon meal by the campfire, and hobbled her way over to the treeline with Kahlan’s help. She looked back as Richard and Zedd chatted with their visitor; a balding middle-aged man, completely average in appearance save only possessing one good eye. He had a persistent nervous twitch about him, but that and his numerous scars only served to back up his story.

“Well,” Kahlan answered hesitantly. “That’s to be expected, right? Having just escaped a Mord-Sith temple?”

“About that. That never happens,” Cara countered.

“Never? The temples are lacking central leadership. You’ve told me what happened at yours. Maybe there was just enough chaos at his for him to escape when his mistress was killed.”

“It’s unlikely,” Cara muttered. “Something’s wrong.”

“Sometimes, good things do happen,” Kahlan offered with a gentle prod at Cara’s shoulder. “Besides, why would he be let loose?”

Cara gave her a half-smile despite herself. “I suppose they do. But…I don’t know. Can you read him?”

“No,” Kahlan admitted. “He’s too…off.”

Cara nodded. “Whoever broke him did so beyond the point of usefulness. Highly unusual. It’s almost like an entire temple used him to relieve their frustrations,” she said carefully.

Kahlan didn’t blink. “All the better that he escaped,” she said simply.

Cara looked to her side. “Again,” she sighed.

“What?”

“Escaped again.” She nodded her head at their campfire. Their visitor had left.

****

Cara stood by her horse and crossed her arms. “I just don't see the point.”

“It'll be fun,” Kahlan promised from atop her own mount. “Come on!”

Several more days had passed, and Cara could finally walk on her own with almost no pain. She had assumed they would depart immediately to resume their journey to Aydindril. Now Kahlan wanted to go traipsing off at random, wearing her white Confessor dress no less. Cara had no idea why.

“And do what, exactly? Ride around the countryside for no reason at all?” Cara gestured wildly at the forest around them.

“Yes,” Kahlan grinned. “There are wide open fields barely half a league to the south and it's a beautiful day. You told us your leg is healed. Let's go,” she urged.

Richard called to them from across the clearing. “You should go, Cara.” He was hard at work building a life-size wooden sheep from branches and leaves while Zedd offered advice and critique. It was almost done, and it unnerved Cara. “It’ll do you some good.”

Cara just set her lips in a thin line, and didn’t move. Kahlan had that glint in her eye; the one that said she was planning something.

“Oh fine,” Kahlan sighed, turning her mount. “Be a big, red, wet blanket if you want.”

Cara's head snapped up. “I am not a wet blanket!”

Kahlan urged her mount forward a few paces, and looked hard-pressed to keep a straight face. “You definitely are,” she assured Cara. “A big red one. Or actually, maybe a small red one.”

Cara felt her face flush and she quickly swung herself into the saddle. “You'll pay for those words, Kahlan!” she shouted.

A huge grin spread across Kahlan's face and she turned her mount to face the trail. “Not if you can't catch me,” she taunted in a singsong voice. Cara had just grabbed the reins when Kahlan took off down the trail. She dug her heels in and urged her mount to speed.

When Kahlan finally slowed and allowed Cara to catch up, she exchanged an amused glance with Cara's frustrated glare. “I wanted to come,” Cara stated after a moment. “In fact, I had just decided to when you insulted me.”

Kahlan tried to bite back laughter, but gave up soon after. “I'm sorry, Cara,” Kahlan finally worked out in so many breaths.

“I think I'll live,” Cara huffed.

Kahlan glanced over at her. “Oh, I'm quite sure.” She paused, and her tone became serious. “You are very hard to kill.”

Cara canted her head at the change in Kahlan's voice. “What do you mean?”

“Zedd never told you?”

“Told me what?”

“Cara, when he drew your fever into his own body, it nearly killed him. He's of the opinion that you should have died far earlier that night.” She pursed her lips in thought. “Something made you hold on.”

Cara turned her gaze to the path ahead, silent for a moment. Someday she would tell Kahlan, but not now. “Mord-Sith are strong. We're trained to withstand pain,” she finally offered. It was a halfhearted attempt, and Kahlan knew it.

“It had nothing to do with pain,” she countered. “You were quite unconscious. You are strong, Cara, but you are strongest where it counts the most. Here.” Kahlan pressed her hand to her chest, and her eyes searched Cara's.

Cara looked away, setting her jaw and urging her mount to pick up their pace to a light trot. She wanted so badly to say the words.

 _That strength comes from you._

****

They broke the edge of the forest and were greeted by rolling green hills and soft white clouds. A light breeze ruffled their hair as Kahlan turned to face her and grinned. “See? Beautiful.”

Cara wrinkled her nose and looked up at the sun. “It's hot,” she observed.

Kahlan's eyes sparkled. “Little…red…” she started. Cara gripped the reins and raised an eyebrow. “Wet blank—”

Her words broke into a squeal of laughter as Cara lunged her mount towards Kahlan. They took off at a breakneck pace across the field with Kahlan barely maintaining the lead. She flashed a grin back at Cara, wind whipping wildly through her dark hair and white dress as she leaned forward in the saddle. Cara’s mock anger was whisked away, and her heart jumped in her chest as she chased after her Confessor.

****

They rode the afternoon away together, stopping and slowing occasionally to rest their mounts. The pair took one such pause at the top of a high grassy knoll, dismounting under a small patch of trees and leaving their horses under the shade to cool off and feed. Cara was breathless; it was strangely exhilarating to get so much pleasure from something so simple.

They walked a few steps to the edge of the shade and Kahlan flashed her a knowing smile. “You’re glad you came,” she said decisively.

Cara raised an eyebrow and was silent, not inclined to give the Mother Confessor the satisfaction of confirmation or denial. Instead she planted her feet apart and clasped her hands behind her back, raising her head to face the vista before them as if she were a general appraising a field of victory.

A meandering strip of rolling green hills stretched out before them, encroached on either side by thick and dark forest. The Rang’Shada mountains rose up sharp and white against the horizon, and nestled between them was a city, deceptively small in the haze of distance. Cara knew it must be massive to be visible from so many leagues. That had to be…

“Aydindril,” Kahlan confirmed quietly, as if reading her thoughts. “Do you see the gleaming white towers rising above the city?”

Cara squinted. “I think so.”

“The Confessor’s Palace. My home.”

“I’ve been there, Kahlan,” Cara pointed out. “Maybe I haven’t seen the palace, but we spent time in Aydindril. Remember?”

Kahlan turned to her. “You haven’t truly seen Aydindril, Cara.” Her voice was dreamlike with a hint of excitement, as if talking of an old lover long kept apart and soon to be reunited. “You came in from the forest and the East gate, not the main gate on the plains. You really only saw one small corner of it. You didn’t even see King’s Row. And the Confessor’s Palace—when the morning sunlight comes over the walls, the towers glisten and shine. Cara, it’s beautiful. You’ll love it.”

It was true—their previous approach from the forest had been sudden if not awe-inspiring. It was as if they turned a corner and high white walls sprung from the ground to fill their vision, and at the time Cara’s only interest was fixing whatever was wrong with Kahlan.

“Are we going back?” Car asked, suddenly afraid their journey was at an end. She had reached a decision since they’d left late that morning. She would tell Kahlan before they returned. She would try to put words to her thoughts, her feelings, and the thought of trying to find them, right now, was making her stomach flutter and twitch.

Kahlan’s brow furrowed. “No, there’s a river just ahead. We’ll water the horses and then we can go back.” She hesitated, biting back inquiry, and smiled instead.

Cara allowed herself to get lost in that smile for the smallest moment, and her unease vanished without a trace.

****

True to Kahlan’s word, the pair crested a hill and wheeled their mounts in at the sight of a wide sparkling river meandering through the valley in front of them. Kahlan turned ruefully to Cara. “That’s the end of our road.” Cara nodded and tried to hide her disappointment.

After a short ride down the gentle slope, Kahlan dismounted at the river’s gravelly shore. Cara started to follow suit. She had swung halfway off the saddle when her foot tensed and pain shot through her leg. Her muscles jerked and she fell backwards; a familiar rush of panic flooded her and she was suddenly quite sure she was going to die. Her eyes slammed shut and she braced herself to hit the ground, but instead found herself in warm arms. “You said your foot was healed,” Kahlan admonished into her ear after a moment.

Cara extricated herself from the saddle with a grimace. “It is healed.” Kahlan lowered her gently to the ground, and Cara turned around in her arms to face her. “Mostly,” she added.

“You can’t lie to a Confessor, Cara.” Kahlan was trying to keep a reproachful expression, but seemed hard-pressed.

“I am Mord-Sith,” Cara reminded her. “I can, and I say my foot is healed. It clearly got caught when I dismounted.”

“Most Mord-Sith can,” Kahlan corrected. “You can’t. You are…different.” She searched Cara’s eyes, and Cara vaguely realized they were still holding onto each other. Kahlan dropped her hands to hold Cara’s before speaking softly. “I’ve never known anyone like you.”

Cara’s lips parted, but no words came. Kahlan ducked her head nervously and stepped back to guide their mounts to the river.

Cara found her voice as they approached the water’s edge. “Kahlan.”

The brunette turned quickly, hope in her eyes, and Cara stepped forward with the intent to speak. To tell Kahlan that her feelings and her wants were very much returned. The desire burned in her chest and she took in breath, but her throat tightened and a roaring silence suddenly ruled her thoughts.

Kahlan waited, patiently, her eyes soft and understanding, and Cara could only clench and unclench her fists at her sides. She waited for her throat to loosen, waited for the silence to cease and her own mouth to move. The soft murmur of water over rock became loud in her ears, and after a moment too long Cara’s eyes broke from Kahlan’s. They traveled down over dark hair spilling over her shoulders, down her Confessor dress, down to the gravel and the distance between them. Two paces, two steps, at once so close and so impossibly far.

Her head bowed to follow her eyes, and she swallowed, admitting defeat in silence—silence broken by a voice, impossibly soft. “Cara, you don’t have to use words.”

Cara lifted her head and saw Kahlan’s eyes burning into hers, and her breath caught in her throat as Kahlan took a step forward and the distance was halved. Her mind and her thoughts stopped, and her body was filled with pure purpose, directed by something else—something more primal and ungoverned. Cara stepped forward, raised her head and, without a moment’s hesitation, pressed her lips to Kahlan’s.

She lost all sensation except touch as Kahlan pressed against her kiss. Her hands found Cara’s neck and the side of her face, and Cara’s skin came alive and burned at her touch. Cara lost track of time, amazed at the release of the moment and the heady feeling Kahlan’s lips imparted. The need for breath grew and Cara ignored it, pressing harder, reaching her hands behind Kahlan’s back and pulling her closer. When Cara finally broke the kiss and their eyes met, and a shaky smile grew on Kahlan’s face, something was different, and it filled Cara with quiet amazement.

It was something in her chest; it swelled and ached to be closer still to the woman before her. Cara had kissed many others and bedded even more, but only Kahlan had torn down her walls and made her feel like this. The union of the physical and the emotional was brand new, and it was almost too much.

Her senses returned and it was the same Kahlan that was in her arms now, blue eyes hooded yet piercing, exchanging heated breaths with Cara before kissing her over and over again. The taste of Kahlan on her lips and the sound of her breathing, the scent of her so close and the warmth of her touch, all combined into the heady and intoxicating essence of Kahlan, and Cara lost herself willingly.

Kahlan’s hands pressed more insistently on her body, and kisses turned hungry and slow. Cara wanted to taste more; she moved her tongue into Kahlan’s mouth, just slightly, asking permission, and Kahlan slipped a hand around her neck in response and pressed her own against it. Warmth bloomed low in Cara’s belly as their kisses turned deep, and Cara began exploring and mapping, intent on committing the heat and texture of Kahlan’s mouth to memory. When they pulled apart slowly, wet and kiss-swollen lips clinging, Cara looked into eyes turned dark with wanton desire.

She placed her hand between Kahlan’s breasts, feeling the heated and flushed skin, and Kahlan’s heart pounded wildly against her palm. Cara’s lips brushed against Kahlan’s before falling to her jawline, pressing to the side of her neck and then her shoulder, and Kahlan’s suddenly heavy breathing in her ear was making her own heart race.

Then a low and quiet sound rumbled in Kahlan’s chest, before building and emerging from her throat in the form of a groan. She pushed back, away from Cara, and Cara was suddenly cold and struck by the loss of her. Kahlan’s cheeks were flushed dark red against her pale skin, and she took deep breaths. A small noise of protest escaped Cara’s throat, and it seemed to wake Kahlan from her silence. “We can’t,” she forced out. “You know we can’t.”

Cara stared at her before finding her own voice. “I think…maybe we could.” She quickly ducked her head, completely aware of the implications of her words, and the fire and heat in her core began to cool in the wake of sudden nervousness.

The meaning wasn’t lost on Kahlan either. A soft smile grew across her face, and she stepped forward and reached for Cara’s hands. “Cara,” she said, her voice low. “As badly as I want this, there’s no way I’m risking it. Not yet. It’s alright.”

Kahlan emphasized her words with a squeeze of her hands and a kiss on her cheek, and Cara’s eyes closed as her lips lingered on her skin.

“We should go back,” Kahlan whispered, and pulled away to return to the horses currently drinking their fill. But Cara didn’t let her; she didn’t let go of Kahlan’s hands. Kahlan questioned her with a glance, and Cara’s words left her in a sudden rush.

“I don’t want to go on without you knowing, that I consider you more than a friend. More than someone I want to share a bed with. And I want to be more. With you, Kahlan. And I want…I wanted you to know,” she finished lamely.

Cara blinked, feeling first confusion and then relief at how easily the words had come. She barely had time to feel anything else before Kahlan pulled her forward, back into her arms, and Cara stumbled and ended up with her head on Kahlan’s shoulder as Kahlan’s arms wrapped around her in a crushing embrace. “I would very much like that. To be more with you,” Kahlan murmured.

Cara returned the embrace and buried her head in Kahlan’s neck. She didn’t want to let go; she wanted them to stay right there, in each other’s arms, until the world ended around them, and Kahlan seemed content to do the same. But a sudden sniffle against her own shoulder made Cara’s brow furrow, and when she pulled back and saw wetness in Kahlan’s eyes she quickly took Kahlan’s face in her hands. “What’s wrong?” she asked worriedly.

Kahlan smiled and covered Cara’s hand with one of her own. “Nothing is wrong, Cara. Sometimes people cry when they’re happy,” she explained, her voice watery.

“Oh,” Cara whispered. Kahlan bit her lip before leaning in for another kiss, far more chaste but with no less passion. Cara didn’t have much experience with happiness, but she imagined this feeling must be close.


	6. Fracture

“The blonde in red leather?” she repeated.

He nodded vigorously.

“Not the Seeker?”

He shook his head.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes Mistress,” he said reverently. “I saw them. But she doesn’t love her as much as I love you, Mistress.”

She breathed in the fresh night air. This was going better than she’d possibly hoped. Soon it would all be over.

She drew the Agiel from her side. “You have done well,” she told him. The smile on his face was disgusting. “Do you want a reward, my pet?”

He nodded rapidly, and she unceremoniously pushed the Agiel to his chest. His purpose was over. He fell silently to the ground, still, and she turned away, back to their little camp in the wilderness.

It was time to put her plan into action. She pulled the knife from her belt as she passed their dying fire, and approached the smaller of her two sleeping Sisters. The blonde would be angry when she woke, but sacrifices were demanded by all.

****

Cara woke just before sunrise, tangled in Kahlan’s arms. She lay quietly, listening to the sound of distant birdsong and Kahlan’s soft breathing, and the cold ground below made Kahlan’s warmth against her all the more pleasurable. Cara had no desire to move.

She gazed up at the sky as it grew lighter, replaying the memories of the day before in her mind. She reached her free hand, the one that wasn’t wrapped around Kahlan’s side, to touch her own lips. The memory of her first kiss with Kahlan was something she never wanted to forget.

Cara raised her head up as much as she could, which wasn’t much—Kahlan’s head was nestled against her shoulder—and saw that they were alone. She bit her lip and shifted herself, sliding down against Kahlan’s body and facing her. A smile broke across her face as Kahlan shifted and mumbled something, and Cara traced the lines sleep had left on Kahlan’s cheek.

“Kahlan,” she whispered. The brunette didn’t move or change her breathing, so Cara tried again, a little louder. “Kahlan.”

Cara was rewarded with the fluttering of her lashes, and a moment later she was gazing into Kahlan’s eyes as she blinked away sleep. Cara decided, in that moment, that blue was her favorite color.

A smile grew on Kahlan’s face, and she cleared her throat. “Good morning.”

“I suppose it is,” Cara admitted. Kahlan’s smile just grew wider, and she leaned in and kissed the tip of Cara’s nose, looking completely satisfied when Cara pursed her lips and dropped her eyes.

****

They broke their fast together with berries and water, and as they ate beside each other Kahlan tried to think of how to breach the subject. “We’re leaving today,” she finally offered.

“I would hope so. I’ve kept you here long enough,” Cara replied.

“Well. I’m glad you did. Not that I’m glad you got hurt,” Kahlan added quickly.

“I am,” Cara grinned.

“Only a Mord-Sith,” Kahlan sighed. Cara looked pleased.

Kahlan was loath to break the mood, but she wanted to get this conversation over with. “Cara,” she began slowly. “Exploring this…being more. It won’t be easy.”

Cara shot her a glance and her arms found their way across her chest. “I know. You’re the Mother Confessor,” she began.

“And you are Mord-Sith.”

“Sworn enemy of Aydindril and the Midlands,” Cara offered drily.

“The Central Council would hardly understand,” Kahlan sighed.

“Do you need their approval?” Cara asked.

“No, I don’t. But—”

“But you do need your sister’s,” Cara said quietly.

Kahlan nodded. “I would very much like it.”

Cara cleared her throat. “You need to continue the line of Confessors.”

“Something I can’t do with you,” Kahlan said softly. Cara nodded, and Kahlan saw the first hint of sadness throughout their exchange so far. “And then there’s Richard,” Kahlan added quickly.

“Kahlan,” Cara said hesitantly. “Do you still.”

“No,” she answered firmly. “I don’t.” She glanced away. “But…being together around him would be cruel, and I do owe him a completely honest conversation. I’ve been avoiding it.”

Cara nodded. “I think I do too.” She stood suddenly, awkwardly, and Kahlan could tell she was going to say something she didn’t want to. “There’s something else,” she finally blurted.

Kahlan stood as well, her brow pinching in concern. “Cara?”

Cara swallowed and began. “Kahlan, I am Mord-Sith. I will always be Mord-Sith, and because of that I will always be broken. You must understand that…I will never be completely whole, and you deserve someone that is. Someone who can be everything for you, and give you everything that you need and want.” She averted her gaze. “Someone that’s not me.”

“Oh…Cara,” Kahlan sighed. She moved forward and took Cara by the shoulders, offering her a broken smile before turning her around and pulling her close. She pressed her chest to Cara’s back and pointed past them to the giant oak. “Do you see that tree?”

“Yes.”

“The things I’ve shared with you under that tree…the stories I told you when we were alone? The ones about the darker parts of my life. I never thought I would tell anyone those things, but it was easy to tell you.”

She kissed Cara’s neck and continued, wrapping her arms around the blonde’s middle. “It’s because you are broken, that you understand me better than anyone else could. I don’t want you to stop being Mord-Sith, Cara. It’s a part of you, and my feelings are for you. All of you, not just parts. I will never ask you to change, and I will never ask you to give up who you are.”

She heard Cara take in breath to speak, but Kahlan wouldn’t let her. “I don’t want someone that’s not you,” she finished.

Cara finally turned around in her arms. She held Kahlan’s gaze, searching her eyes, and whatever words she had planned never came. Kahlan made use of the silence to lean in and kiss her.

Cara blinked and regarded Kahlan mildly. “What was that for? Not that I mind,” she added.

“I hadn’t kissed you yet today,” Kahlan replied evenly. “And I wanted to.”

“Oh. It’s still early in the morning,” Cara pointed out.

“I thought you said you didn’t mind,” Kahlan teased. “And we’re going to have a problem if I have to give you a reason before I kiss you, Cara.”

Cara’s reply was cut short by someone’s noisy approach behind them. Kahlan turned to see Richard and Zedd working their way through the woods toward the camp, and turned back to Cara. “I’m going to talk with Richard. Can you tell Zedd for me while we’re gone?”

“Tell him,” Cara echoed. Kahlan nodded, trying to hide her amusement at Cara’s sudden panic. “Oh, no. I don’t think so.” The blonde shook her head emphatically, and Kahlan finally let her grin show.

“Oh. Well, I think Zedd already knows,” Kahlan assured her. Cara rolled her eyes, and Kahlan flashed her a satisfied smile before walking to greet the Wizard and Seeker.

****

Richard took things far better than Kahlan thought he would, and she quickly realized just how obvious her burgeoning feelings for Cara must have been. He had an air of resignation about him, and it was proving hard for Kahlan not to think of all the quiet moments they had shared; she knew guilt would follow. It seemed so long ago.

Thankfully he soon broke the silence. “I can’t stay.”

She nodded, having anticipated as much, and offered a tight smile. “What are you going to do?”

He raised his head and Kahlan was glad to see the familiar look of iron determination back in his eyes. “I’m going to take the throne. I’m going to become Lord Rahl.”

That much she had been afraid of. “Richard, I believe in you, but that’s an important decision. Have you given it clear thought?” she asked gently. “Marching into D’Hara for the wrong reasons would not be wise, and might get you killed. I couldn’t bear to be responsible for that.”

“I’m sure. I reached the decision weeks ago; this just confirms it,” he shrugged.

“You’ll need help.”

“The Seeker has plenty of allies across the Midlands.”

“And once you leave the Midlands?” she pressed. “Come with us to Aydindril, and I’ll send an escort of the Home Guard with you.”

“Kahlan…I can’t…stay.” He looked at her pointedly, and Kahlan suddenly understood his meaning. He meant to leave as soon as possible. As soon as their conversation was over, if the look on his face was any indication.

She leaned her back against the nearest tree, and an idea came to her. “Go ahead of us to Aydindril. Bring word of our arrival; they don’t know when to expect me. You can stay in the palace until we arrive. You won’t even have to see me. Then I can send you on your way with men to help you.” He looked away, and Kahlan risked a hand on his shoulder. “Please, Richard. Let me do this.”

He nodded acquiescence, and Kahlan breathed a sigh of relief before bringing up the next unfortunate subject. “Cara and Zedd might want to go with you.”

“Why would Cara want to…Oh. I’m her…”

Kahlan nodded. “Will you talk to her? Before you go?”

“I will. Do you need Zedd in Aydindril? I haven’t told him yet, but would you let him come if he wanted?”

“Let him?” she asked softly. “He’s your grandfather, Richard. Of course I would.”

He offered her a tight-lipped smile in thanks, and rose. They set off back to camp, and Kahlan was amazed at how little time had passed; truthfully, she had expected to have to talk with Richard well through the morning.

They broke through the treeline into the glade and Richard paused. “Another visitor. Strange.”

There was an extra horse tethered with their own, and a young woman was seated by their cold campfire, chatting with Zedd and ignoring the Mord-Sith pacing behind her. Wavy shoulder-length blonde hair fell over her simple villager’s dress. On seeing Richard she jumped up and rushed over to them. “You must be the Seeker,” she said hesitantly. “And the Mother Confessor.”

Richard’s hand fell to the sword at his side. “We are.” Kahlan allowed herself a small smile, knowing he was feeling relief at falling back into his old role. “What’s your name?” he asked. “How did you find us?”

“My name is Laris,” she began. “A strange man came through our village a couple days ago. Very nervous. He told us you were camped here. We need your help, Seeker.” She fidgeted her hands at her sides. “A witch has kidnapped our village’s children, and is holding them hostage for the head of my husband. Please, you must help us.” She glanced at Kahlan. “But I wouldn’t want to keep the Mother Confessor from Aydindril,” she offered nervously.

Zedd stood and stretched before breaking in. “Ah, one last quest together before the parting.”

Kahlan flashed a knowing glance to Cara, but the Mord-Sith was busy staring at Laris.

“Not together,” Richard put forth. “Kahlan, how far to Aydindril?”

She spent a moment in thought. “Four days, five at the most. Straight north.”

He turned to their visitor. “And your village?”

“Half a day’s travel to the east,” Laris replied.

Kahlan stepped forward, immediately suspicious. “There is no village half a day to the east.”

“We are a traveling people,” Laris said carefully. “We didn’t know we were so close to the witch’s lair, or we wouldn’t have made camp.”

“Is it a camp or a village?” Cara asked flatly.

“Both.” Laris pursed her lips and turned to Richard. “Please, help us.”

Richard nodded and turned back to Kahlan. “You and Zedd carry on to Aydindril. Cara and I can take care of this witch, and then I’ll send her back to you before cutting across straight to the city. After talking to her,” he added.

“I’m right here, Richard,” Cara told him exasperatedly.

They packed the camp and prepared the horses, and then it was time to part ways. Kahlan bit her lip as Richard gave her a quick hug. Cara, clearly conscious of Richard and Kahlan’s past tear and kiss-filled process, stood awkwardly before her and offered a quick nod of her head. Kahlan stepped forward with a smile and kissed her cheek, and bit back a laugh at the resulting sudden and furious blush.

They mounted quickly, and Kahlan heard Richard’s voice floating back as she and Zedd moved their mounts into the sparse forest. “You’d better get used to that.”

She set a slow but steady pace, and Zedd cleared his throat beside her. “You did well, talking to him,” the Wizard told her. “It will take time, but Richard will move on.”

“He’s going to throw himself into his next task,” Kahlan sighed. “Are you going with him to D’Hara?”

She realized she had just assumed Zedd already knew, but wasn’t surprised when the Wizard merely sighed. “I’ll go if he asks me to, but he doesn’t need me. Richard has grown up more since he met you than all the years previous together.”

Kahlan bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Zedd. I never wanted—”

Zedd interrupted her with a cluck of his tongue. “No, child. I didn’t mean that. Heartache is part of growing up.” He raised his bushy eyebrows. “I should know. I’m an expert on growing up, am I not?”

A faint smile came to her face, and she nodded. “I suppose you are.”

****

The day had crawled slowly into afternoon, and Cara was becoming more and more sure that something wasn’t right with this supposed simple village woman. She had distrusted her immediately, but wasn’t sure why. After listening to Richard try and coax information from Laris about her village and the situation there, her strangely cryptic answers served to solidify Cara’s suspicions. She was hiding something, and the glances Richard exchanged with Cara let her know he had picked up on it as well.

They stopped to rest and water their mounts at a small ford, a shallow but fast-moving stream running across the wide forest road they’d picked up. Laris dismounted easily, and as her hair swung behind her, realization clicked and Cara’s blood ran cold.

It was wavy because it had been tightly braided, and the ends were jagged because it had been hurriedly cut. The way Laris carried herself, her speech lacking in accent, the subdued sway in her hips, and her reluctance to talk; they all pointed to one thing. Cara’s mind quickly worked out the rest. She had been sent to split the four of them, and she’d succeeded.

Cara leapt down from the saddle, furious with herself for not noticing sooner. She clenched her jaw and advanced on Laris from behind. Cara didn’t even notice she’d drawn an Agiel, but it screamed in her fingers all the same. Laris barely had time to turn at the sound before Cara struck her temple, hard, and she collapsed to the ground unconscious.

“Cara?” Richard called. He dismounted hurriedly and came to her side. “I’m guessing you noticed something?”

She knelt and patted Laris down, and found a familiar shaped fixed to the outside of her thigh. She hiked the dress up and pulled free the hidden Agiel. “She’s Mord-Sith.” Cara stared at the leather rod in her palm, struggling to rein in the sudden flood of panic as she turned to Richard. “They wanted us separated from Kahlan. Richard, she’s alone! Zedd is just an old man when there are Mord-Sith present.”

“You can’t know for sure,” Richard said carefully.

“I’ll find out. Help me tie her. And Richard—I’ll need your knife.”

He turned to pull rope and a hunting knife from the saddlebag. “What do you need the knife for?”

She sighed, knowing he wouldn’t like the answer. “The Agiel is a tool for pain, but she is Mord-Sith. I hardly have time to break her. Agiels lack the capability to damage the body.”

His eyes went wide. “Oh.”

****

Richard stood on the edge of the road with arms crossed, trying to ignore the screams. Cara had told him to watch for travelers, but the look of warning in her eyes told him that he would not want to see her work.

When the screaming finally stopped, he turned to Cara see approaching. She handed him his deceptively clean hunting knife, and her eyes were still dark with restrained fury. Richard indicated a spot on her jaw and neck where blood had spattered across her face. She grimaced and raised a leathered hand to wipe it away, then stopped and regarded it dryly.

It was Richard’s turn to grimace; her gloves were covered in the dark wetness. “Here, I’ll get you a—”

“There’s no time,” she interrupted. “Nathair is tracking Kahlan, and she’s not alone. She has mercenaries and another Mord-Sith at her call. They’ll meet and strike after nightfall. We have to leave. Now.”

“Nathair? The teacher from Stowcroft? Kahlan confessed her—she’s dead!”

“No, she’s not. She’s very much alive.”

“I don’t understand,” Richard muttered. “What does she want with Kahlan?”

Cara sighed. “What do you think, Richard? She wants revenge. She suffered pain beyond even a Mord-Sith’s imagining at Kahlan’s hand. Enough questions, let’s go.”

Richard grabbed her arm. “Cara. Nightfall. We won’t make it. The day is over half gone, and we have to recover all our distance and theirs. We have to think of something.”

Cara pulled away and glared at him as she moved to their horses. “I have no problem leaving you behind,” she snapped. “I’ll get to her with or without you.” She swung herself into the saddle and prepared to move back to the road.

Richard took a deep breath and followed suit, and they set out on a race against the sun.

****

Night fell quickly, and the flames of Kahlan’s small fire danced shadows around herself and the Wizard. A full moon shone brightly overhead through the trees, and Kahlan felt strangely peaceful. They’d made camp well off the main road, in a small clearing next to a wide and grassy open field. It would be a cold night, and she forced her thoughts away from memories of Cara’s warmth against her.

In a few days’ time, they would walk through the gates of Aydindril together. They’d go down King’s Row, and she would walk the steps up to the Confessor’s Palace, through the vaulted doorway, over the white marble floor, and assume her rightful place as the Mother Confessor, chair of the Central Council and the highest single authority in the Midlands. And she wanted Cara, proud in her red leather, to be at her side.

Zedd’s voice startled her out of her daydreaming. “Kahlan,” he began. “Have you given truly clear thought to your relationship with Cara?”

“I have,” she confirmed. “I’m fully aware of how hard it might make things.”

Zedd nodded. “I think you should know—as First Wizard, I cannot approve such an official union to the archenemy of the Midlands.” Kahlan recoiled and opened her mouth to object, but Zedd threw up a hand and she stayed silent. “But as your friend, and Cara’s…traveling companion…I want you to know that I understand,” he continued. “And I’ll do what I can to support you. You are both very rare women, and on top of the fact that I do want to help you, I truly pity whomever tries to come between you.”

Kahlan smiled. “Thank you, Zedd. Are you hungry?”

“Is the sun or moon out?” the Wizard replied drily.

She laughed and pulled a loaf of bread from her pack before tossing it to Zedd, and soon the only sounds were the crackling of the fire and Zedd’s loud meal of nuts and venison. Kahlan quickly lost herself back in thoughts of Cara, wondering what she was doing at that moment. She wondered if Cara was thinking of her.

The sudden and distinct sound of a branch breaking to her side caught her off guard and Kahlan’s head turned quickly. Footsteps revealed someone was coming, and she craned her neck and squinted against the darkness. Zedd rose slowly and Kahlan followed suit. She began to make out a form in the shadows, and her heart jumped in her throat. Maybe Cara was back already. Leather gleamed in the moonlight filtering through the trees, and she caught a glimpse of blonde hair. Kahlan took a step forward, breathing out a single word in hopeful disbelief. “Cara?”

The form continued approaching, and Kahlan saw a braid swinging. That wasn’t Cara’s, and the soft and smooth voice that came from the shape was definitely not Cara’s. “She isn’t here, Mother Confessor.”

She stepped into the firelight. Kahlan saw her face and almost took a step back before feeling Zedd’s hand on her shoulder. She recognized this woman from somewhere. “I know you,” she said, almost to herself.

The Mord-Sith canted her head and smiled, her blue eyes gleaming and dark blonde braid falling to the side. It was devious, a trickster’s smile. It reminded Kahlan of a snake. “The circumstances were different when last we met,” she offered coolly.

Whatever the Mord-Sith’s reasons for showing up at their camp, she doubted she meant well. “What do you want?” Kahlan demanded.

The smile widened, stretching across her hard-edged face. “You.”

Kahlan’s muscles tensed, and adrenaline pulsed in her body. She dropped and pulled her daggers from her boots, and the Mord-Sith laughed. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to fight your way out of this, Mother Confessor.”

There was a sudden crash in the underbrush to her side, and another. She saw hulking dark shapes and heard heavy steps. Her head whirled from side to side; there were six of them. Too many; she couldn’t take them all and keep Zedd safe. Not in such close quarters. They would be surrounded and slaughtered. Kahlan made her decision. “The field, Zedd. Run!”

The Wizard muttered something under his breath and started loping for the open grass. They broke the treeline with the Mord-Sith’s laughter echoing in their ears, and Kahlan’s stomach sank. There was another Mord-Sith, much younger, standing silently before them in the field, hands behind her back. Two men flanked her on either side several paces apart. By the size of them, they had to have been D’Haran military turned soldiers of fortune.

The others came out from the treeline, and they slowly encircled the pair. They were being cautious, still fifteen paces from them. Kahlan’s thoughts were racing. There was no way Zedd could outrun anyone, and his magic was useless with Mord-Sith present. Even a non-offensive spell would still avail them access to his mind, and they would able to inflict crushing pain without a touch.

It was up to her. She turned and glanced at Zedd, and her eyes widened with dismay when she saw the Wizard chanting under his breath. “Zedd, what are you doing?” she whispered furiously. “Don’t even think—”

“Trust me, Kahlan. Close your eyes,” Zedd whispered.

“Zedd, no! The Mord-Sith,” she protested.

“Close them, and be ready.”

She heard uneasy whispering from the eight mercenaries as they drew their swords and slowly closed the net around them. The two Mord-Sith had their palms up, ready to absorb or deflect whatever the Wizard had planned. Zedd’s chanting behind her ceased, and Kahlan squeezed her eyes shut.

****

Richard and Cara had dismounted. They couldn’t risk missing them; they could ride right past their camp, twenty or thirty paces from the road, and would never know it. Richard had lit a torch and started watching the sides of the roads for their trail, and it was slowing their pace considerably.

Cara walked beside him impatiently, leading their horses. “This is taking too long.”

“I’m open to ideas, Cara,” Richard said exasperatedly. He turned to face her and ran a hand through his hair. “We can’t risk—” A low rumble filled the air; his eyes widened and he froze. “What is that, thunder?”

Cara grabbed his shoulder and turned him back around. “That’s not lightning,” she snapped.

A wide pillar of brilliant blue light was reaching straight into the stars over the treetops, stretching into a thin line far up into the cloudless sky. “It’s close,” Richard whispered. The beam flickered, then disappeared. “Zedd and Kahlan. Come on!”

They took off at a dead run into the darkness, and Cara desperately hoped they wouldn’t be too late.

****

Even with her eyes shut, the light bleeding through her lids was enough to make her head hurt. The cries around her told their foes were faring significantly worse, and when the light flickered and disappeared, her eyes flew open to see their attackers had fallen back stunned with arms thrown over their faces.

Kahlan wasted no time, surging toward the dark haired Mord-Sith clutching at her eyes. She closed the distance quickly, her dagger flashed, and the Mord-Sith sank to the ground with blood bubbling from her throat. Kahlan turned to a hulking mercenary shaking his head to clear it, and her hand flipped the dagger before it went to grip his throat. She lowered the walls holding back her magic, felt it leave her skin and surge into his soul, and then he was hers.

The other mercenaries were recovering around her, and she looked into his eyes as the blackness receded. His mouth opened and he began his request. “Command—”

She cut him off. “Kill them.”

“Yes mistress.” He turned with a roar and charged his closest comrade, driving his sword into his chest. Kahlan took a breath and heard a cry of pain behind her. Zedd. She turned and saw two things: Zedd falling to the ground in agonizing pain with a smirking Mord-Sith standing three paces away, and six D’Haran mercenaries charging her. The confessed D’Haran came to her side, and held his dripping blade ready. “I’ll kill them for you, mistress,” he growled.

She glanced at him, suddenly thankful she’d confessed the largest of the group. “See that you do,” she muttered.

They clashed a heartbeat later, and Kahlan whirled to the side to let the first pass her, driving a dagger in his back as he stumbled past. She pulled it free and saw her new friend had already downed one as well. The remaining four split in two, approaching slower and circling them from each side. The pair stood back to back, and the real fight began.

Kahlan dodged and danced, whirling and ducking. Her daggers flashed over and over; she scored several flesh wounds on the mercenaries without being touched, but they were, frustratingly enough, using their training. The confessed D’Haran at her back was faring better; he was fighting with the ferocity that protecting his mistress lent him as opposed to the promise of coin. It wasn’t long before one of his foes lost his sword arm and his head soon followed.

One of her attackers finally made a mistake; he lunged forward carelessly and Kahlan ducked under his blade, landing a slash on the back of his ankle. He sank to the ground with a shriek as his leg collapsed under him; she slammed a dagger into the side of his neck and the scream died abruptly.

Kahlan heard a thud behind her. One left. Still, she risked a glance over her shoulder to make sure. It saved her life; she threw herself forward and felt the sword’s tip rake over her upper back instead of cleaving her neck. Her D’Haran had apparently fallen.

She was off balance. Her own remaining foe was quick to capitalize, and landed a hard kick to her upper stomach. The air rushed from her lungs and she fell heavily onto her back, desperately trying to suck in breath. The two brutes advanced on her with twisted grins, and one raised his sword.

“Stop! Don’t kill her! Get her wrists!” That smooth voice rang out over the field, and the sword faltered. Kahlan fruitlessly worked her chest and throat, panic filling her mind as they descended on her. They dropped their swords and knelt to grab her arms. She regained her breath just as she felt their iron grips clamp around her wrists; she pulled in great lungfuls of air and desperately tried to pull away. They were simply too strong, and Kahlan’s daggers fell from her hands.

“Stand her up,” the voice commanded.

Kahlan was pulled to her feet roughly, arms extended, and finally got a good look at the face in front of her. Bright moonlight threw her features into sharp relief. Recognition finally clicked, and she coughed, wincing at the pain in her lungs, before breathing out a name. “Nathair Cranson.”

Nathair smiled. “I’m impressed, Mother Confessor.”

“I remember the name of everyone I confess,” Kahlan replied coolly.

“Oh, not that. There were ten of us earlier tonight.” She looked around, as if searching, and shrugged. “Now we are three. Impressive.”

Kahlan glared at her. If she could touch her there would be two, but the grips on her wrists were tight and she wouldn’t give Nathair the satisfaction of fruitless struggle.

Nathair stepped closer. “I used to be a reasonable woman, Kahlan Amnell,” she hissed. “But what you did to me in Stowcroft…There is no word in any language for the pain. And when my Sisters woke me, there was no word in any language for my rage.”

“You earned that pain,” Kahlan answered, her head raised.

“And Cara Mason? She didn’t?” Nathair’s voice dropped and she stepped closer still.

“Cara is different.” Kahlan strained against her captors, hard, and the muscles in her arms stood out.

A smile flashed over Nathair’s face, just for an instant. “Oh no. We are no different at all. You must understand. When you look at Cara, you see me. My handiwork. I trained her. I made her.”

Kahlan clamped her mouth shut, and Nathair stepped closer. Her face hovered directly in front of Kahlan’s, and her voice become soft and intimate. “So you could say I know her better than anyone. I know things about her, things that she’s done with a smile on her face, that she would never tell you.”

Kahlan closed her eyes to shut out the leering face before her. It didn’t matter what Cara had done. All that mattered was who she was now, and Kahlan took refuge in the still-fresh memory of her secret smile and her touch.

Still, she was unprepared for what came next. “You think you love her,” Nathair stated with amusement.

Her eyes flew open and she was filled with sudden rage, pulling her arms furiously. To hear that word spoken aloud for the first time, from her, instead of from her own lips or Cara’s—she would kill this woman, for that reason if nothing else. “You know nothing of love,” Kahlan spat.

Nathair’s face hardened. “Neither does she.”

A laugh sprang from Kahlan’s throat, unbidden. “Then you don’t know Cara as well as you thought.”

“Didn’t know,” Nathair corrected her casually. She drew the Agiel from her side and rolled it across her palm, and the soft whine scratched at Kahlan’s mind like rough paper.

Kahlan knew beyond doubt that Nathair was trying to break her, and that she would say or do anything to achieve that. She couldn’t stop the words from leaving her lips, but at least she could command instead of request. “Tell me what you mean.”

Nathair smiled triumphantly. “The Cara you know will soon be gone,” she assured Kahlan. “You met Sister Laris this morning. By now she will have guided them into the ambush. They will capture her and the Seeker, and I am going to retrain Sister Cara. She will return to her rightful place, under me, and your death is the first step. I’m going to bury you, Mother Confessor, right outside the Temple.”

“It won’t work,” Kahlan said emptily. “Cara is too strong.”

“Wrong,” Nathair hissed. “I broke her before, and I will break her again. No matter how long it takes. I will beat the memories out of her no matter how many bones I have to break, and I will bleed her of her belief that she can be anything more than a tool for her betters to use. No doubt the floor will turn slick and red with it, but so be it.”

Kahlan was trying to shut out her voice, but the Mord-Sith didn’t stop. “Do you know how she will prove her loyalty? First, Cara will kill the Wizard. Then she will break the Seeker herself, while I watch, and then she will order him to take his own life.”

Kahlan clenched her jaw and Nathair smiled cruelly. “And when she gives me trouble, Mother Confessor?” she continued, her voice low. “I will strip her naked, and I will take her outside, and we will visit your grave. I’ll force her onto it, shove her face into the dirt, and it will be closest she will ever come to you ever again. And it all starts right here, Mother Confessor. I wonder…how many heartbeats do you have left?”

The pit of Kahlan’s stomach twisted in a sharp knot at the picture Nathair had painted. She watched the screaming Agiel raise to her face and felt it drag down her cheek, trace her jaw, and move down her neck on an inevitable path to her heart. The agony seared through her body, but a far worse pain was rending her soul. Nathair was going to destroy Cara, and she was going to use everything Kahlan loved about her to do it.

The Agiel’s tip moved over the top of her chest; it screamed there, frozen in time, and in that time, Kahlan broke. Her eyes squeezed shut, her body sagged against the men holding her, and her chest heaved in silent sobs. All emotion and all feeling, physical or otherwise, vanished, and she knew only sorrow and grief in their most base forms. Despair reached up and gripped her, and Kahlan succumbed to it. She tasted the bitterness and she felt the coldness; it wrapped around her heart and squeezed, and pain exploded in her chest.

Kahlan became aware of a scream ripping her own throat, and the smell of burning flesh broke through her senses. Her eyes opened to see the Agiel shoved into her chest, and she watched numbly and felt her heart stop. Her head rolled back and she sank into the permanent emptiness, the absolute blackness, and just before she was dragged under it, she forced one last single thought to the surface with perfect clarity.

 _Cara, I love you._

****

A cry of agony pierced the night air rushing past Cara’s ears, and after exchanging a glance with Richard they drew their weapons and redoubled their pace. Her lungs burned as she ran blindly through brush and branches, and she pushed her way through the treeline and stumbled into a small open field. The sight that met her eyes stopped her cold.

Kahlan was held up with arms extended by two men, and a Mord-Sith stood in front of her with Agiel shoved into the center of Kahlan’s chest. Her head was thrown back, and brilliant white light erupted from the Mother Confessor’s heart, pouring and rippling across the field in waves. Cara stood frozen as it whipped past her and left them in darkness. Kahlan’s head rolled loosely to the side. She was gone; her light extinguished. Cara was too late.

Cara was sure she was dead as well—her heart wasn’t beating, she wasn’t breathing, and somehow she was remembering all the moments she had spent with Kahlan at once. Her sparkling blue eyes, her laughter, the warmth in her touch, her gentle voice. She was gone.

Cara watched in disbelief as the men released their hold on Kahlan’s arms and she fell lifelessly to the ground. In that moment, Cara’s only wish was to stop existing.

Then she felt a painful jump in her chest and her lungs pulled in air; she realized she had fallen to her knees in the soft earth and became dimly aware that Richard was yelling something in her ear. It didn’t matter. Whatever he was saying, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

They had been spotted, and Cara watched blankly as Kahlan’s murderers turned to face them. Then Richard was grabbing her head, forcing her to look at him, and her gaze was torn from the crumpled white form on the grass. His repeated words finally broke through as she stared at him. “…save her. Cara! You can save her!”

Her voice cracked. “She’s. Kahlan is…”

“Cara.” Richard’s voice carried no small amount of urgency and his eyes darted between hers and their approaching attackers. “Listen to me. You can give Kahlan the Breath of Life, but we have to get through them. Alright? Distract the Mord-Sith and I can take the others.”

The Breath of Life. Purpose shot through her, filling her veins with fire and heat, and her muscles coiled and tightened. She spoke through clenched teeth. “Distract her? I’ll rip her apart.”

A smile flashed across Richard’s face but his voice remained deadly serious. “Good. We need to hurry.”

Their foes were upon them. Cara rose, slowly and purposefully drawing her Agiels, and then stopped cold as she turned and saw the Mord-Sith’s face. The face of a woman she hadn’t seen in red leather in many, many years.

Richard launched himself forward with a cry, and the remaining two mercenaries melted around Snake to engage him. Her ears registered the metallic clang of steel meeting steel, but her vision was focused on the dark red form before her.

A brazen smile spread across Snake’s face, and she stepped forward with Agiel hanging loosely at her side. “Hello, Sister Cara. I’m sorry we have to meet again under such poor circumstances. Unfortunately killing Kahlan was something I—”

“You don’t get to say her name,” Cara seethed. Her blood boiled with rage and rushed in her ears, and she gave herself over to the sudden frenzy. Her Agiels fell from her hands to the ground and she sprinted towards Snake. Cara didn’t need training. She didn’t need weapons. The world-rending fury she felt in her muscles was more than enough.

The other Mord-Sith’s eyes widened and darted between her and the Agiels on the grass, and Cara was on her before she could react. Cara didn’t slow; she launched herself at Snake and they flew back, landing on the ground with Cara’s knee in her stomach.

Snake coughed and tried to shove her Agiel at Cara’s chest, but Cara easily wrenched it from her grasp and tossed it aside. Cara’s fists clenched, and she struck out at the face before her. Snake threw up her hands in desperate defense, but a well-placed strike to her throat had her clutching her neck instead. “You…won’t…take her from me,” Cara hissed. She punctuated each word with a powerful blow to Snake’s face, and soon blood poured freely from her nose and mouth.

“Cara!”

Richard’s voice came from her side, and she paused her fists long enough to turn her head and see him standing by Kahlan’s side, sword still drawn. “Either finish her or don’t, but hurry,” he called urgently.

Cara rose quickly, moving to Kahlan’s side with purpose. “Watch her,” she told Richard. He nodded and stepped behind her, and Cara turned her attention to the fallen figure in white. She choked back a cry at how she had collapsed, arms and legs loose and bent under her. Cara knelt beside her, straightening her limbs, and as she cradled Kahlan’s head her heart broke at the way it slumped listlessly in her hands. She clenched her jaw when she saw the red welt tracing a path from her cheek to the center of her chest, standing out fresh on her pale skin. Cara looked into blue eyes lifeless, dark, and still, and she found herself blinking back hot tears. She ripped a glove from her hand and wiped away the blood from the corner of Kahlan’s mouth with a trembling finger.

She lowered her lips to Kahlan’s and focused, pulling the essence of life from deep within and pushing it forward. A rush of something not quite breath left her lungs and traveled from her mouth to Kahlan’s parted lips; tears streamed freely down her cheeks as she cradled Kahlan’s face. She should be taking in breath. It was taking too long. “Kahlan? Please…”

An eternity passed between each heartbeat, and Cara watched in impossible agony as Kahlan’s eyes stayed dark, and she didn’t move. It wasn’t working. “You can’t. You can’t be gone, Kahlan. Don’t go.”

She closed her eyes and moved her forehead to Kahlan’s, and she let the tears fall freely. “I never got to tell you. You can’t be gone. I never even got to tell you…”

****

“I won’t go!” Kahlan shouted. Her eyes searched the blackness, the void around her, and utter emptiness swallowed her voice.

The light before her was shimmering, bright and inviting, and Kahlan knew she was supposed to go into it. She was supposed to leave everything behind, and accept her place in the afterlife. It might have been easier had she not remembered Nathair’s parting words so easily.

But she did remember, and the pain in her chest was still present and still sharp. She backed away from the light, wishing desperately for another way. For a way back, to see Cara one more time. To warn her of Nathair’s plans, to tell Cara that she trusted her to have strength without her. To say goodbye, if nothing else.

Kahlan swallowed grief and closed her eyes against the light, and imagined Cara here with her. She imagined Cara holding her in her warm arms, and she imagined burying her head in Cara’s neck, smelling her hair and inhaling the scent of her. She imagined pulling back and looking into green eyes that only went soft for her, and Kahlan’s lips tingled as she imagined pressing them to Cara’s.

Yet it was more than a tingle, and it wasn’t her imagination. She felt something else. A breath entered her lungs that wasn’t her own, and her eyes flew open. The light had disappeared, and Kahlan was left in absolute darkness.

But she wasn’t alone; Kahlan felt a familiar and comforting presence and warmth, around her and inside her. She turned around, searching for the form and the face that matched that scent; the smell of worn leather. Cara. She heard a voice, distant at first. It was Cara’s voice, and it was growing stronger.

Then Kahlan felt a drop of something wet hit her cheek.

****

It was during the silence between the sharp intake of breath and the shaky exhale that Cara heard a breath not her own. She furiously blinked away the haze of tears, and her heart soared when she saw Kahlan’s eyelids flutter. “Come back, Kahlan,” she pleaded. She cradled her head and stroked the side of it, and then the body in her arms took in a deep breath, chest swelling and rising, and Cara was looking down into brilliant blue eyes as they searched her own.

Cara caressed her cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She hadn't dared to think the words, but Cara spoke them now, her voice cracking with emotion, and she knew they were true. “I love you.”

She watched as those words reached Kahlan; as she heard them, understood them, and believed them. Kahlan tried to raise herself on her arms and Cara helped her sit up. She brought her hands up to Cara’s cheeks, and Cara couldn’t help but close her eyes for the smallest moment, just to revel in her touch. She opened them when Kahlan spoke with a voice strong and sure. “Cara,” she said. “I love you.”

Kahlan embraced her, and fresh tears fell from Cara’s eyes as she felt the warmth that was the life in Kahlan’s body. She reached her palm to Kahlan’s chest, and Kahlan covered it there with her own. “I’m alive, Cara,” Kahlan whispered, and Cara thought she might break from happiness as she felt Kahlan’s heart beating. Cara bowed her head, and Kahlan’s forehead laid against her own. In that moment they existed, together, and it was all either of them wanted.

“Cara? Am I killing her or what?” Richard’s voice floated across the field, breaking the spell of silence. They pulled apart, Kahlan actually smiled, shaky though it was, and Cara instantly forgave Richard his intrusion. She lived for that smile. Kahlan retrieved her daggers and they rose, Cara tiredly and Kahlan slowly, and walked together to where Richard had his swordpoint at Snake’s throat. She was still on the ground, and Cara might have thought she had died already if not for the sudden wracking cough from her bloodied mouth.

“Go tend to Zedd,” Kahlan told him. Richard nodded, sheathing his sword and stepping away.

“I deserve an honorable death,” Snake forced out.

“You had one,” Cara told her flatly. “You don’t get another.” She turned to Kahlan, who was looking at the shape on the ground strangely. “What do you want to do with her? We could—”

“No,” Kahlan interrupted, stepping forward with a dagger at her side. She paused, then wordlessly fell to her knees, driving the blade down with incredible force hilt deep into Snake’s throat. There was a sickening gurgle, then silence, and Snake’s eyes fluttered as she twitched and stilled. Cara watched with brow furrowed as Kahlan stayed frozen beside the dead Mord-Sith, hand still gripping the dagger’s hilt.

Cara stepped forward to help her up, and the movement triggered something in Kahlan. She twisted the dagger and pulled, and Snake’s throat was torn open. Cara fell to her side, grabbing her shoulder as blood welled to wet Kahlan’s hand.

“Kahlan, she’s dead. Let go.”

She collapsed back at Cara’s touch, and Cara reached a hand to raise her head. “Kahlan. Are you alright?”

Kahlan looked up at her, and Cara’s heart was torn at the pain she saw. The long welt on her cheek was an angry red, and Cara swallowed hard. She’d never seen Kahlan hurt like this before. “I had to make sure she never breathes again,” Kahlan whispered. “I had to make sure it never happens.”

“What happens? What did she do to you?”

Kahlan shook her head slowly. “I don’t want to tell you. Not now.” She wiped the blade on the grass and rose to head for Zedd. Cara followed suit; she walked slowly, looking around the field at the bodies scattered, at Kahlan’s slender white form in front of her, at Zedd sitting up and Richard crouched in front of him. They were safe, but Cara couldn’t tear her gaze from Kahlan’s blood-soaked hand.

****

“After you and Kahlan are settled in Aydindril, I’ll be leaving for D’Hara.”

Richard had torn her from Kahlan’s side—it had taken a literal push from Kahlan for her to actually go—and as his words sank in, dread rose up in Cara’s chest. “You’re going to take the throne.”

He nodded, and the world suddenly didn’t seem fair to Cara. She had brought Kahlan back to life barely a candlemark ago, and already she was faced with a new crisis. She looked through the trees, to where Kahlan sat huddled in front of the fire and Zedd was rummaging through a pack. “I should go with you,” she offered emptily.

“No. I won’t allow it.”

“What do you mean you won’t allow it?” she snapped. “I am Mord-Sith. You are the Lord Rahl. I belong at your side. That is the way things should be.”

“Cara, if you’ve learned anything about me, you should know I have very little interest in tradition and the way things out to be. You’re staying with Kahlan, and that’s the end of it.”

Cara looked down to her glove at her side, clenching and unclenching it and watching the leather flex across her hand. She had to say this, but the fact that it was the truth didn’t make it easier. “I would like for you to know,” she began hesitantly. “That I never meant for this to happen. That I never meant to take her from you.”

She instantly regretted her words; the look on Richard’s face, his clenched jaw, and his sudden silence let her know that he was in no way as detached from this as he was trying to appear. Cara braced for the verbal or physical lashing she suddenly wanted, but knew wouldn’t come.

He smiled sadly instead, and Cara lowered her eyes. “She’s happy with you,” he said. “I know Kahlan well, and I’ve never seen her more content than when she’s by your side. Cara, you didn’t take her from me. She left me, for her own reasons, and because of that she found you. It doesn’t matter what any of us wanted. This is the way things are.”

Cara bit down on her cheek, hard, and dipped her head in acceptance. Richard extended his hand. “It was an honor,” he said quietly.

She took it, and they gripped forearms in a warrior’s grasp. “Thank you,” Cara replied. Her brow furrowed, her other arm came to his shoulder, and before she what she was doing she had pulled him into an embrace. “For everything,” she added hesitantly. “For trusting me before I deserved it.”

Richard stood in a daze before returning the sudden hug, and then holding her at arm’s length. That familiar lopsided smile was back on his face, and relief flooded her. “I wonder if I’ll even recognize you the next time I see you,” he joked.

“I’ll still be in red leather,” she promised.

****

It was unanimously accepted that there would no watch that night. They let the fire go out early, surrendering the camp to the moonlight, and all retired to their bedrolls. Kahlan silently joined Cara on her own; she laid beside her and pressed herself close, and Cara wrapped her arms around her. Zedd had healed the gash across her back and the welt on her face and neck, but Kahlan hadn’t improved. Cara began to suspect that Snake had broken her somehow, and Kahlan only had one weakness that would allow it. Herself.

She ran her hand through Kahlan’s hair, brushing it behind her ear as they lay face to face. “Will you be alright?” Cara whispered.

“Yes,” Kahlan whispered back. “But there’s a picture that I can’t get out of my head. Even though I know it won’t come true, it still hurts.” She buried her head into Cara’s chest and sighed, and Cara tightened her embrace. She hated the way Kahlan’s voice sounded empty.

Cara knew all too well how poisonous Snake’s words were, and that was before her resurrection had lent her extra ire. She tried to think of a way to distract Kahlan, to comfort her. She couldn’t find words, so when Kahlan raised her head Cara risked a quick kiss.

“I hadn’t kissed you yet tonight,” Cara explained hesitantly. “And I wanted to.”

She watched as Kahlan’s eyes softened and the pain lessened, and after a moment Kahlan returned it with an equally short kiss. “That’s for this coming morning then,” Kahlan said softly.

“What about the one after that?”

Kahlan almost smiled, and leaned in to kiss her again. This time her hand came to Cara’s face and her lips lingered, and Cara tried to make her kiss gentle and reassuring. Whatever it was to Kahlan, she wanted more, and Cara gave it willingly.

When Kahlan had drunk her fill she pulled back and pressed her forehead to Cara’s, and Cara watched as her eyes lidded and closed. Her breathing evened out and Cara was sure she was asleep, but she wanted to tell her anyway. “I love you,” she whispered.

“…love you too,” Kahlan mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Go to sleep, Kahlan.”

“I am asleep.”

Cara sighed and kissed the tip of her nose, and Kahlan’s soft and lazy smile let her know that everything would be alright.


	7. Yours

Early the next morning, Cara left Kahlan asleep in their bedroll when she went to fill the waterskins at a nearby stream. Upon her return, the newly awakened brunette wordlessly walked to Cara’s side, and they hadn’t been more than a couple of paces apart since.

Richard left after breakfast, and the remaining trio set a steady if leisurely pace. On separate horses there wasn’t much opportunity for conversation or reassuring touches, but Cara could tell Kahlan was feeling better as the day wore on. It was the way she looked at Cara, as if she were thanking the Mord-Sith just for being close.

Around midday they picked up a widely traveled road; as close to Aydindril as they were, they began to come across other travelers. Kahlan still wore the white Confessor dress she had changed into two days before, and it became quickly apparent that everyone who saw it knew exactly who she was. When Cara quietly asked her if she wished to change back into her unassuming traveling dress, she smiled and shook her head.

By the time night fell, they’d made camp off the main road. The forest had thinned out considerably; there were no clearings or glades to speak of. They settled in next to a massive fallen tree lying waist-high across the forest floor, and built a small fire next to it to cook their evening meal. Zedd and Kahlan spoke of Aydindril and Cara half-listened, mostly just watching Kahlan talk.

When the Wizard finally retired and his requisite snoring filled the night air, Kahlan was hers again. Cara reclined against the log, and Kahlan brought their bedroll over and joined her. It wasn’t long before Cara felt a tug on her glove, and she smiled as she pulled it off and Kahlan’s hand wrapped around her own.

“What are we going to do,” Kahlan sighed, “In a big city with no trees to sit against and talk?”

“I think we’ll manage,” Cara chuckled. “What I want to know is how long it’s going to be before you realize we’ve been holding hands like schoolchildren.”

Kahlan flashed her an amused glance. “Isn’t that what people do when they’re in love?”

Cara smirked and held her hand tighter, but her expression softened as she thought of Kahlan’s words. She couldn't help repeating them aloud, and she couldn't keep the awe from her voice. “In love.”

Kahlan smiled. “Yes, Cara. In love. I’ve been in love with you for some time, and I don’t plan on stopping.”

Cara felt her cheeks blush. Somehow it seemed different, admitting she was in love. “I suppose I am in love with you,” she sighed. Kahlan’s smile grew, and Cara quickly raised their joined hands between them. “But this? All the time? Schoolchildren.”

“I never got to go to school,” Kahlan mused. “Not like a normal girl. I never got to fall in love with some boy and hold his hand on the walk home.” She gave Cara a rueful smile. “I suppose I’m making up for lost time.”

“When I was taken from my home by Nathair and her Sisters, I still thought boys were vile creatures,” Cara said thoughtfully. “So I suppose…”

Kahlan looked away, and Cara realized what she had just said. How could she have brought her up by name? “Kahlan, I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Kahlan gazed at the fire for a moment, and Cara could feel tension threatening the air between them. Cara swallowed hard, knowing she had just undone Kahlan’s hard work to put the previous day’s events out of her mind.

“It’s alright,” Kahlan said. She turned to face Cara, searching her eyes, and finally let it out. “Cara, she was going to break you. Nathair was going to break you again, and she was going to use my death to do it. And then she was going to make you kill Zedd and Richard.”

“Oh.” It was all Cara could say, and she averted her gaze, wondering if she should tell Kahlan what she had learned from her time alone with Laris. “Kahlan, I don’t know that she would have,” she began hesitantly.

Kahlan looked at her, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”

“I interrogated Laris when I realized what had happened, and I learned a few new things about Nathair. She was obsessed with you, Kahlan. Not me, not Zedd, not Richard. We were all afterthoughts in her plan to get to you.”

“I don’t understand,” Kahlan said hesitantly.

“You know of the agony a Mord-Sith suffers from confession,” Cara ventured.

Kahlan nodded. “It completely destroys the soul.”

Cara shook her head slightly. “It doesn’t destroy it, it twists it and warps it. That’s the reason the Breath of Life is never used on a Sister of the Agiel to bring her back from death by confession.”

Understanding began to show in Kahlan’s eyes. “She was…”

Cara nodded. “All she thought of was ending you. She told you those things because she was trying to make you suffer as much as she did.”

Kahlan let her head fall back. “It was a lie. She wasn’t even going to…”

Cara sighed. “It doesn’t help, does it? I shouldn’t have told you.”

“No,” Kahlan said quickly. “Thank you. I think it helps a little.” She squeezed Cara’s hand, and looked down to where it was joined with her own. When she spoke again at length, her voice was barely above a whisper. “Cara, if I asked you about your past, would you tell me?”

Cara’s brow furrowed deeply, and she reached her free hand to Kahlan’s face, cupping her chin and raising her head. “Why would you ask me that? My past would be unpleasant. To you. I don’t want you to have to know.”

“I want to know,” Kahlan said plainly. “I love you, and nothing you tell me that you’ve done will change that. And I want you to trust me, to know that you can tell me anything. Anything at all.”

“Kahlan, what has happened to me, and what I’ve done. Those things are my burden. I don’t want to…” She gestured helplessly, and Kahlan looked at her from under her brow.

“Don’t try to protect me,” she said sharply. “I’m a Confessor, Cara. I’ve heard the deepest secrets of some of the most twisted souls that walk this world.” Cara dropped her eyes, cowed, and Kahlan’s voice softened. “But more importantly, it doesn’t have to be your burden alone. Not anymore.”

Now it was Cara’s turn to gaze into the flames of the small fire. Kahlan had shared her life with Cara, but this was more than asking a favor of repayment in kind.

“Trust me,” Kahlan whispered. She threaded her fingers in Cara’s, like she had the first time Cara had reached for her hand.

Cara leaned her head back and cleared her throat, fixing her gaze on what little dark sky was visible through the treetops. “When I was first taken, they tortured me with the Agiel without stopping. Every day. They would take turns doing it, and they wouldn’t tell me why, and I always ran out of tears before each day was half over. They did that for weeks, always using the same Agiel.”

She paused and reached her hand to her side, drawing the foremost Agiel. It whined softly in her gloved hand, and she looked at it as if seeing it for the first time. “It was this one.”

She risked a glance to Kahlan. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see, but Kahlan’s eyes weren’t wet. There wasn’t pain there, and she wasn’t asking Cara to stop. Instead Kahlan just looked at her, expectantly, and Cara realized she’d found the one person in the world who was strong enough to share the weight of her past.

“Nathair was my first Mistress,” Cara continued, sheathing the Agiel back at her side. “My first teacher. I hated her from the day she took me. I hated her so much I gave her a secret name, one that I’ve never said out loud. Not once.”

Kahlan squeezed her hand, and Cara finally said it. “Snake.” She wrinkled her nose; it actually sounded silly out loud. “I was twelve,” she muttered. “When I gave her that name.”

“It fits,” Kahlan offered.

****

The time passed slowly as they drew ever closer to Aydindril’s gates. As they rode during the day, Kahlan and Zedd talked endlessly about boring things like politics, and Cara learned far more about the inner workings of Kahlan’s city than she ever wanted to know. Still, she could sense a slowly growing excitement coming from the brunette at the prospect of returning home. After the Wizard fell asleep at night, Kahlan would place herself in Cara’s arms, and they would talk.

Cara continued revealing to Kahlan all the things she never thought would pass her lips. She told her of her breakings, and of the ceremony where she had been granted magic by Darken Rahl. She told her of the battles she had fought in his name, how she had worked her way to her eventual position as Rahl’s head Mord-Sith, and Kahlan almost seemed proud.

After Kahlan’s gentle reminder that only half her life had been spent in the service of Darken Rahl, she even told Kahlan what little she remembered of her life before—of growing up with her sister. Her family.

Their last night on the road before reaching Aydindril found Cara and Kahlan in what had become their usual position: Cara reclined against a tree with her legs spread, and Kahlan relaxed between them with the back of her head on Cara’s chest. Kahlan said she liked feeling her voice.

“That’s all of it,” Cara insisted. “There’s nothing else. Interesting, anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Kahlan pressed.

“Sure enough. Even if there was more, I’m done talking.”

There was a pause, and Cara imagined Kahlan narrowing her eyes. “What do you mean you’re done talking?” Kahlan demanded.

Cara smirked and pressed a kiss to the top of Kahlan’s head. “I’ve talked, cried, and felt more in the past few weeks than all the rest of my life put together,” she confessed.

Kahlan shifted against her and craned her neck up to look at Cara, and Cara saw a soft smile on her face. “Me too,” Kahlan admitted.

****

Dawn came early. They had their camp packed by the time the morning mists burned away, but as Kahlan knelt to wake Zedd, Cara stopped her with a sudden clearing of her throat.

Kahlan turned and questioned her with a glance, and Cara’s eyes darted away for a moment before asking the question she’d been avoiding. “Kahlan, if I’m going to live in Aydindril with you, where will I stay?”

Kahlan’s brow furrowed. “In the Confessor’s Palace. With me.” She said it slowly, as if it were obvious.

Cara nodded and bit the inside of her cheek. “Will I need my own room then?”

That made Kahlan stand, and she quickly dropped her pack and moved in front of Cara with a concerned expression. “Of course not. Not unless you want one,” she added. “But Cara, I planned on us living very much together. I would like for you to share my bedchambers,” she offered nervously.

Cara nodded slowly. “I would like that,” she said. One obstacle out of the way, and one very big one left. She dipped her head to loose a sigh, and tried to work up the courage required to ask this of Kahlan.

“Cara?”

Concern had deepened on Kahlan’s face. “I’ve told you that I love you,” Cara said, her voice low. “And I do. But Kahlan—I don’t want to love you carefully, or from a distance. I need you to try and confess me.”

“Alright.”

Cara blinked. She’d expected to have to argue with Kahlan, maybe even force her somehow. The last thing she expected was for Kahlan to accept her request with a single word. But it occurred to her that Kahlan knew from personal experience that love prevented confession, and that Kahlan had been giving this ample thought on her own. She could hardly see Kahlan asking her if she was ready to try confession; she almost smiled at the thought. No, she had very much been waiting for Cara to decide she was ready.

“Alright,” Cara echoed. She stepped forward determinedly, raising her head to expose her neck, and Kahlan stepped forward to meet her. Cara watched as her hand raised but faltered, and her brow furrowed. “No, Kahlan,” Cara whispered. “Don’t do that. Don’t think about it; don’t doubt me.”

Kahlan’s eyes cleared, but her hand didn’t grasp Cara’s offered throat. Instead her palm cupped Cara’s cheek, and Cara watched as fear passed across her face. “I need you to tell me again,” Kahlan whispered.

Cara searched Kahlan’s eyes with her own, and she raised her hand to cover Kahlan’s. “I love you, Kahlan.”

She watched as Kahlan’s eyes closed and a tear fell down her cheek. “Kahlan,” she said firmly. “Look at me. I love you.”

Kahlan’s eyes flew open, shining wet and completely black, and Cara felt Kahlan’s magic surge into her and felt it convulse the air around them. It worked its way through her body in an instant; Cara took in a sharp breath and focused her love for Kahlan in her mind. The torrent of magic multiplied it, building on it until Cara was consumed with it. It was love in its purest form, and it was for Kahlan. The feeling was incredible.

But it was nothing that she hadn’t already felt. When she had looked into Kahlan’s eyes on the moonlit field and watched the life come back into them, she had known then that her love for Kahlan was insurmountable. Cara’s world did not grow dark, she didn’t fall to her knees, and there was no pain. As Kahlan’s eyes cleared and her hand lowered, trembling, Cara stood freely, exultant, and a smile found its way to her face.

Kahlan’s eyes, still streaming with tears, darted between her own, and she was seemingly disbelieving. “Cara?” she asked breathlessly. “Are you?”

“I’m fine,” Cara assured her. Her smile grew wider, and she wiped the tears from Kahlan’s cheeks. “Stop crying, you’ll drown,” she chided.

A strangled cry left Kahlan’s throat and she surged forward, hugging Cara into a crushing embrace. “Oh Cara,” she whispered into her ear. “You love me.”

“I’ve told you as much,” Cara murmured back. Kahlan sniffled and almost laughed, and Cara held her tight for as long as she needed.

Kahlan pulled back and kissed her, over and over, and Cara was relieved to feel a smile growing against her own lips. “You know what this means,” Kahlan said, almost shyly, as she pulled away and wiped the remaining wetness from her eyes.

“It means you don’t have to take care of yourself anymore,” Cara offered with a grin. Kahlan laughed at her reference to their conversation by the lake, weeks ago, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Speaking of which,” Cara asked, head canted. “How long has it been for you?”

“Since…before you. Weeks. Cara, why are you asking?” Kahlan’s voice was full of hope—as well as something far less innocent.

“Because I’ve never stopped wanting you,” she told Kahlan firmly. “And I thought we could get away for a bit and—”

A loud yawn sounded behind them across their camp and Cara’s face fell. Kahlan peeked around her, and closed her eyes as a rueful smile spread across her face. She buried her head in Cara’s shoulder, mumbling something into it that sounded strangely like a string of curses.

“Zedd’s awake,” Cara ventured in a whisper.

Kahlan nodded against her shoulder before raising her head. “Yes,” she whispered back. “We have to wait. But we’ll be in Aydindril tonight, and my bedchambers have locks on the doors, and they are very thick doors,” she assured Cara softly. She bit her lip. “Tonight, when I get you alone, you can have me.”

Cara’s legs grew weak, and she let Kahlan grab her shoulders and turn her a little. Kahlan kissed her quickly but deeply; the tongue Cara felt in her mouth was a promise, and she knew that day would be the longest of her life.

****

Cara looked idly around the courtyard, wondering what Kahlan could possibly be talking about that was taking so long. It was early afternoon, and they’d passed through the outer gates half a candlemark ago. Cara wasn’t really sure what to expect, but noted the heavily armed lines of soldiers under and around the massive stone archway with approval. She felt at home here already; the thick iron bars of the portcullis reminded her of passing under the doorways of the People’s Palace.

The courtyard was completely deserted barring their red and black-clad escort, but Cara could hear the soft persistent murmur of a crowd from behind the inner gates. Apparently they were to be part of a procession; the glorious return of the Mother Confessor and First Wizard to Aydindril was a bit of an occasion. She stole a glance at Zedd, who appeared equally bored.

She looked down and flexed her hand in her glove. She and Kahlan had buffed and polished Cara’s leather until it gleamed, and she had brushed Kahlan’s hair before they left that morning. Cara looked at it now, soft and dark, spilling over her shoulders and white dress, and gave up trying to suppress the all-too-familiar flutter in her chest.

Cara was almost desperate enough to try and make idle conversation with the Wizard when Kahlan finally finished talking to the soldier, apparently a captain of the Home Guard, and turned back to them. “It’s time,” she said. “Cara, you will walk beside Zedd, two paces behind me.” Cara looked around; apparently, they were the procession.

The captain shouted staccato commands, and a dozen soldiers formed a line on either side of them. They moved before the inner gates and Kahlan gave a curt nod to the captain. The doors had just began to swing open, the dull roar of the crowd leaking through, when Kahlan’s voice suddenly rang out sharp. “Wait!”

The gates creaked back shut, and Kahlan turned to Cara, suddenly looking incredibly flustered. Wordlessly, the brunette grabbed her arm and led her wide-eyed across the courtyard to the guardhouse door. She threw it open, shoved Cara inside the deserted room, yelled something unintelligible to Zedd across the courtyard, and slammed the door shut after stepping through.

Cara was completely lost. “Kahlan? I don’t think now’s the best time to—”

Kahlan interrupted her with a finger on her lips, and her face grew deadly serious. “Marry me, Cara.”

Cara’s eyes flew open wider, and Kahlan grabbed her hands, raising them between them and threading their fingers together. “I want to be yours,” Kahlan told her firmly. “I want to be your wife.”

Cara stood completely frozen, staring helplessly at her, and Kahlan licked her lips nervously before pressing a kiss to Cara. “Will you marry me?”

Truthfully Cara had known the answer after she’d asked the first time, it was just a matter of making her throat work. She ended up having to settle for a whisper as Kahlan searched her eyes and grew increasingly worried before her. “Of course I’ll marry you, Kahlan.”

Then Kahlan smiled the most beautiful smile Cara had ever seen, and Cara felt one growing on her own face. When Kahlan kissed her cheek, Cara felt emotion welling up in her chest, and her heart soared. There was no doubt left in her—this was happiness.

They tried to share another kiss but both were either laughing or smiling. They settled for a long embrace instead, and Cara sighed when Kahlan reached for the door’s handle. They had walked halfway back across the courtyard before Cara realized she was still holding Kahlan’s hand. She yanked it away nervously, and Kahlan smiled at her. “You’ll need to walk beside me now, not behind.”

Cara nodded, quietly amazed. Kahlan had asked her now because she wanted everyone to know. She wanted all of Aydindril to know that she had chosen Cara to be her mate. Not for the sake of power or stature, but for her own heart. The Mother Confessor did not want blind devotion. She wanted someone who could walk beside her instead of two paces behind her.

Cara was still trying to come down out of the very unfamiliar daze of utter joy, and barely heard Zedd’s voice behind them as she took her place beside Kahlan in front of the inner gates. “Does this mean there will be a wedding? Kahlan, you need to make sure they make the cakes with—”

“Zedd, shush,” Kahlan laughed. “There will be plenty of time for planning.” She turned to Cara. “Are you ready?”

Cara looked at the stone-faced soldiers at their sides and found she couldn’t force the smile from her face; her cheeks flushed and she frantically reached for an Agiel at her side. The familiar pain centered and balanced her, and she was able to school her composure and nod at Kahlan.

Kahlan nodded at the captain in turn, and as the gates slowly swung open, Cara witnessed a change in the woman beside her. She grew taller, stood straighter, and her face fell into a strange expression, graceful yet firm. She exuded a subtle power and confidence, and her bearing became regal in every way. Cara stood in sudden awe of the Mother Confessor of the Midlands. Her future wife.

When she was able to tear her attention from Kahlan, her breath caught in her throat. There were so many people. A wide road was packed with men and women of all ages, and stretched straight as an arrow through the city beyond. She had never seen so many people in the same place barring a battlefield; the People’s Palace was a labyrinth and lacked the open spaces necessary for such a sight. Houses and shops lined the street, and almost beyond sight, Cara could see what she assumed was the Confessor’s Palace at the end of it. Massive white towers rose tall, set against the looming mountains behind them.

Kahlan touched her hand and stepped forward, and their procession began. The escort stayed at their sides, but the crowd parted well before them. Cara could tell it wasn’t the soldiers, or herself, that the citizens so feared and respected. Everyone’s eyes were locked on Kahlan.

She began to pick out parts of conversations around them. They were talking about Kahlan and the Seeker, how long she’d been absent, and Cara bristled inwardly when someone asked their fellow why it wasn’t the Seeker at the Mother Confessor’s side.

They talked about Cara quietly, and doubtlessly more in whispers. The people here had rarely seen a Mord-Sith in person and knew of them only through second-hand stories; the only ones to pass the gates were either prisoners or, as Cara knew, dressed otherwise for a mission of subterfuge. Cara was the first Mord-Sith to walk freely under the gates as such, and she held her head high.

****

By the time they reached King’s Row and the Confessor’s Palace was temptingly close, Cara was deathly bored. She understood the need for tradition, but she was fairly certain there was no need to walk so slow. She snuck occasional glances at Kahlan, who was ever regal and silent.

They finally broke free of the crowded buildings, and the city opened up around them as the crowd thinned. Cara finally saw firsthand how King’s Row earned its name. Magnificent palaces lined both sides of the road, one for each member of the Midlands Alliance. The attending nobles and their courts were assembled before each, and Kahlan whispered her first words since they’d left the gate. “Stay next to me.”

They stopped before the first palace and Cara recognized the colors of Galea flying from the walls. Kahlan left Zedd and the Home Guard escort in the road to greet them, and Cara stayed close by her side. A young man, dressed in such a way that left no doubt he was the residing nobility, stepped forward. Kahlan and Cara stopped just before him, and Kahlan waited while the man and his court knelt before her. He looked up and swallowed; Cara saw respect tempered with fear in his eyes and heard it in his voice. “It is our honor to welcome the Mother Confessor Kahlan Amnell to Aydindril. All of Galea stands ready to serve.” Cara realized she might as well be invisible.

Kahlan silently extended the back of her hand, and the man took it with his fingertips and kissed it reverently. She spoke a single word—“Rise.” A slight and graceful smile appeared on her face, and Cara was struck by the effect it had on the man and his attendants as they visibly relaxed. Kahlan spoke clearly, and her voice had a quality Cara had never heard from her. “It is my pleasure to receive your welcome and your service.”

The man bowed his head and stepped back, and they turned away. Cara’s thoughts began whirling as they headed away from the palace. This was Kahlan’s city. These were her buildings, her people. Entire nations bowed before her, and Cara had held her in her arms. She had seen her unclothed. She had kissed her, and her lips tingled at the memory.

Kahlan seemed to sense her thoughts, and let her hand brush reassuringly against Cara’s. As they passed the patiently waiting Wizard in the road before heading to the palace of Tamarang, Kahlan looked at her directly, and the smallest hint of a smile, just for her, passed across her face.

****

Cara drummed her fingers against the door frame and darted her eyes around the Mother Confessor’s bedchambers. Kahlan, followed by a veritable horde of servants, advisors, and other serious looking people, had shown her here and disappeared after a quick peck to the cheek and a whispered request to stay out of trouble. She huffed, wondering if Kahlan expected her to sit here and twiddle her thumbs for who knew how long.

She moved into the room, crossing her arms absently as she inspected their new quarters. The walls were the same flawless white stone as the rest of the palace—Zedd had been quick to mention the powerful magic used in its construction. It was large, spacious, and elegant in its simplicity—the Confessors were not an order of lavish excess. There was little in the way of frills and extravagance, but there was no mistaking the silk sheets on the massive canopied bed and the dark solid oak furniture bearing carvings of various people and places.

There was a window on the far wall, and a door next to it that opened to the small balcony overlooking the city. Her gaze turned to the single chair and bearskin rug by the fireplace, and her eyes narrowed. One chair? Clearly they needed two.

Cara had a mission, and left through the double doors with purpose in her step.

****

The sun had long since set, marking her first night back in Aydindril, and Kahlan just managed to get away from her advisors. She had barely begun catching up on the state of affairs in the Midlands, but she excused herself when the letters began swimming together before her eyes. It didn’t help that her own words from that morning echoed in her ears, and the thought of Cara waiting for Kahlan to keep her promise was growing increasingly distracting. She had barely remembered to leave instructions that she wasn’t to be disturbed the next morning.

She was ten paces from the open doors to her bedchamber when a horrendous screeching sound pierced the stone corridor. Kahlan rushed to the doorway with widened eyes, and when she looked inside she spent a moment in confusion before biting back relieved laughter.

Cara was leaning with her back against the wall; she had recruited the help of two of the Home Guard, and they were in the process of rearranging furniture in her chambers. She turned to greet Kahlan, and Kahlan gave up trying to hold back a smile at the Mord-Sith’s air of satisfaction. Still, she tried to assume some sense of reproach. “What’s going on here, Cara?” she asked, hands on her hips.

Cara shrugged and crossed her arms. “I grew bored, and these two gentlemen kindly volunteered their services.”

“Volunteered,” Kahlan repeated with a raised eyebrow. Cara nodded, and Kahlan sighed. “You didn’t like the way it was before?”

Cara strode into the middle of the room and looked around thoughtfully. “This is much more efficient,” she offered. “And I got us another chair.”

Kahlan inspected the new configuration warily. The bed was closer to the currently roaring fireplace—Spirits only knew how they had moved that thing, even with Cara’s help—and the desk, wardrobe, and dresser were all neatly arranged on the side wall. Her eyebrows raised a little—it actually did make sense.

But despite her impression with Cara’s sense of efficiency, furniture arrangements were the very farthest thing from her mind. So as she let her gaze linger around the room, finally settling on the unlucky members of the Home Guard, she placed a seemingly innocent question in the air. “Are they done here?”

The two soldiers finished moving the desk and stood straight, looking to the women for further orders. But Cara’s gaze was locked on Kahlan, and when Kahlan caught her glance she found she couldn’t look away.

“They are,” Cara confirmed.

Kahlan cleared her throat and, still staring into green eyes growing darker, issued a curt command. “Leave us.”

The soldiers pounded their fists to their chests and departed, and then they were very much alone.

Kahlan managed to tear her gaze from Cara’s long enough to close and lock the doors behind them. She turned back around slowly, not at all surprised to see Cara approaching her with unmistakable intent. Yet she paused barely a pace away and stood stock still, and some part of Kahlan recognized the Mord-Sith’s admirable restraint.

But it was not the part in control of Kahlan now. She wanted Cara to close this distance. She needed it. “Cara,” she said quietly. “You can have me.”

Cara blinked, staring at her with something approaching disbelief, and waited one heartbeat too long. Kahlan pushed forward, and the sudden movement was all Cara needed. They closed the distance together and their mouths met in a crushing kiss.

There was no pretense and no teasing. They had both waited too long for this, and Cara told her just how long from the way her tongue moved against Kahlan’s own. Cara pinned Kahlan against the doors with her body; the deep kiss and press of Cara against her sent the first waves of warmth to her core. Cara’s hands clutched at Kahlan’s hips before traveling up her sides and to her breasts; Kahlan’s hands met her own there, and she began pulling hurriedly at the laces on her dress.

Cara pulled back for breath, and they quickly had Kahlan’s dress loose and over her head. Her corset and underclothes followed, and she stood exposed beneath Cara’s gaze. The Mord-Sith took a step back and Kahlan pressed herself against the doors. Her chest heaved and she felt her skin flush with arousal as she watched Cara’s eyes rake over her body. The predatory glint in them was new, and when Cara’s gaze paused at her thighs she almost pushed forward.

But she had promised Cara she could have her way with her—if Cara wanted to stand and admire her for the rest of the night, she would let her. Thankfully Cara had other ideas, and she reached for Kahlan’s arms to pull her forward. Kahlan headed for the bed, but Cara guided her toward the massive bearskin rug with a smirk. Kahlan laughed and collapsed down onto it, rolling onto her back and giving Cara what she hoped was a sultry smile of her own.

The fire beside them took over from the lamplight, and the flames danced shadows across Cara’s face as she positioned herself over Kahlan. She swallowed at the sight of the Mord-Sith using her teeth to pull free her gloves. When Cara lowered herself, letting Kahlan feel the weight of her body, the metal buckles on her armor felt like ice to Kahlan’s heated skin.

Cara paused, her face over Kahlan’s, and Kahlan couldn’t take her eyes from her lips. It almost felt like a dream when they brushed against her own before forming the shape of her name.

“Kahlan.”

“Yes?”

“Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted this?”

“Show me.”

And Cara did. She devoured her hungrily, her lips traveling across Kahlan’s upper body to trace the lines her eyes had drawn moments before. Kahlan felt the wet heat of Cara’s mouth on her breasts and loosed what was likely to be the first of many moans that night. Cara kissed her neck, her shoulders, her arms, and left a trail of kisses—always with a touch of tongue—down Kahlan’s middle. Cara huffed back laughter when Kahlan twitched; Kahlan had a ticklish spot on her side and she groaned for a new reason when she realized Cara had found it.

The groan turned into a gasp when Kahlan felt hot breath between her thighs. Her earlier assumption that there would be no teasing was proven horribly wrong; she felt fingers draw light and lazy circles inside her thighs, and she craned her head up to see an utterly devious expression on Cara’s face.

“Cara,” she protested weakly.

The Mord-Sith pressed two quick kisses to her inner thighs, agonizingly close to her sex, and slid her body back up Kahlan’s. Kahlan felt the leather rub deliberately against her hardened nipples, and another moan escaped her.

“What is it, Kahlan?”

She didn’t get a chance to respond; Cara possessed her mouth with her own, over and over, and Kahlan was left breathless with lips tingling.

“I—,” she started.

Cara kissed her again, but this time Kahlan felt fingertips reach for her nipple and squeeze, and Cara smiled against her mouth as Kahlan groaned against her own.

Kahlan turned her head to the side. “Tease me later,” she forced out. “Make me come, Cara.”

She risked a glance back into Cara’s eyes, and there was a strange look in them. Cara lowered her mouth to Kahlan’s ear. “What do you want me to do?”

“Make me come. I want you to make me come.” Kahlan licked her lips and tasted the slight saltiness of sweat on her own skin.

Cara’s head fell to her shoulder to suck and kiss, and Kahlan felt a hand traveling purposefully down her middle. Cara pressed a hard kiss to her neck as she cupped Kahlan’s sex, and Kahlan sucked in a sharp breath at the much needed contact.

Cara’s fingers began stroking her folds, and Kahlan pressed her head back into the floor as her eyes slammed shut. But Cara increased her pace, rubbing almost roughly, and Kahlan couldn’t take it anymore; her hands let go of the bearskin rug to clutch desperately at Cara’s shoulders instead.

“Is this what you want, Kahlan?” Cara whispered heatedly. “You want me to take you?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Do you want more?”

She groaned in answer, but it turned into a noise of protest as Cara’s hand left her. She opened her eyes to see Cara’s face over her own, and very wet fingers between them.

“I’ve dreamt of this,” Cara told her. “The taste of you.” Kahlan lost focus on the world around her as she watched Cara suck her arousal from her fingers. The room was growing impossibly hotter.

Cara’s eyes closed, and a lazy smile broke onto her face as she licked her lips. She disappeared a moment later, and Kahlan felt hands press against her thighs. She let Cara part her legs, and the sheer impossibility of the moment surfaced in her mind—that she, a Confessor, was spreading her legs for a Mord-Sith—but Cara’s tongue on her center quickly reminded her that it was very real, and it felt impossibly good.

She craned her neck up for a moment; the sight of the blonde’s face between her thighs, eyes closed in rapture as she tasted her sex, fueled the fire in her core almost as much as Cara’s tongue working its way ever deeper.

It all stopped suddenly and Kahlan raised her head again, frantically. “I want you to let go,” Cara told her.

Kahlan nodded and collapsed back. “Just don’t stop,” she panted.

And Cara didn’t—she felt fingers enter her without warning, filling her, and she realized the obscenely loud moan echoing in the room had come from her own throat. Cara set a quick and steady pace, and Kahlan quickly unraveled as Cara’s fingers thrust relentlessly. She felt Cara’s tongue resume its work, licking and tasting every bit of skin between her thighs. Kahlan writhed under her, bucking her hips against Cara’s hand as the Mord-Sith drove her body to the brink.

She groaned Cara’s name through clenched teeth when she knew she was near, and Kahlan felt fingers leave her. Her lips parted to protest the loss, but Cara began to rub small circles where Kahlan needed it most, and she felt Cara’s tongue pick up where her fingers left off. Kahlan’s back arched off the floor; she was soaring toward the edge. She desperately reached her hands to the head between her thighs, and she tried to press her down and pull her deeper.

She raised her head just enough to see Cara’s green eyes blazing back at her, and she savored the impossibly long moment as she let go and crashed over the edge. Her muscles turned to liquid as her power and her climax burst forth from her core. Waves of heat rolled over her body, and she felt her skin prickle as her magic left her.

It was over far too soon, and Kahlan shuddered as the aftershocks rolled through her body. It was the ultimate release; the kind she had dreamt of when she was old enough to know of such things and young enough to think them possible. To consummate her feelings for the one she loved and have them remain such, untouched by confession.

When Kahlan rejoined the world, Cara was hovering over her with a smile that somehow appeared even more satisfied than Kahlan felt. Her lips and chin were wet, and Kahlan raised herself with a smirk to wipe at her face. “I like cleaning this off your face more than tears,” she laughed.

Cara nodded in agreement, and Kahlan pulled her forward for a kiss. “You are incredible, Cara. Not that I suppose I would know, but…” She shrugged her shoulders. “…that was beyond anything I imagined, and I imagined quite a bit,” she admitted.

Cara’s grin was huge, and Kahlan felt one grow on her own face to match it. “I’m glad,” Cara said quietly. “That you liked it.”

“Liked it?” Kahlan huffed. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to unlock those doors. Especially not until I have you.”

Cara looked surprised, as if she’d forgotten that she was still very clothed. Kahlan raised her eyebrows. “Cara, I never stopped wanting you either.”

Cara dipped her head as Kahlan starting tugging meaningfully at laces. It wasn’t much longer before Cara was the one sweating and groaning as the Mother Confessor tasted her Mord-Sith.

****

Kahlan woke up early the next morning, naked and half sprawled across the back of an equally bare Cara. They hadn’t even bothered getting under the sheets; they collapsed on the bed from sheer exhaustion late into the night. She had truly lost count of the number of times they brought each other to climax, but the last one, the one that they had shared after a slow and leisurely build, had been her favorite.

She raised herself up away from the golden skin beneath her and winced. Making love to Cara had worked her body in ways she couldn’t have expected, and she had a feeling her muscles were going to feel overtaxed most of the day if not longer. Her tongue not the least of all, she realized with a grimace.

But it had been worth it. She leaned down to press a kiss to Cara’s shoulder, and trailed a hand down the curves of the body she now knew so well. Cara stirred, and Kahlan watched as her lashes fluttered and she took a deep breath and sighed.

“Good morning,” Kahlan said softly.

“I don’t want to move,” Cara mumbled into the sheets.

“Well, luckily for you, you don’t really have to. We still need to figure out something for you to do around here. Besides pleasing Mother Confessors,” she added lightly.

She could see the corner of Cara’s smile from where her face was buried into the pillow. “You could make that an official appointment,” Cara ventured, finally raising her head.

“Mm. Sadly, the Council handles those,” Kahlan replied.

Cara sighed in disappointment and rose to sit beside Kahlan. “You’re going to be busy,” she guessed.

Kahlan nodded sadly. “Especially at first.”

“Will I see you often?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “But we’ll have nights together if nothing else.”

Cara smiled. “I can handle nights.”

“Don’t get any ideas, Cara,” Kahlan laughed. “I can hardly afford to be this tired every morning.”

“Every other then?” Cara quipped.

“Every other might work.”

Cara nodded in mock agreement, as if the matter was settled, and they fell into silence.

But when Kahlan rose to dress, Cara grabbed her arm, and Kahlan was taken aback at the desperation in her grip. “Kahlan,” she said. “Why am I still expecting to wake up?”

Kahlan searched her eyes, but there was no jest left in them. “You’re serious,” she said quietly.

Cara nodded. “All of this is…it’s too good. I’m getting married to you, Kahlan. It can’t be happening, not to me. I’m too happy.” She swallowed and lowered her eyes. “It can’t be real.”

“Oh…Cara.” Kahlan stepped off the bed, tugging Cara to follow, and guided her in front of the window on the far wall. Kahlan pulled her close and moved Cara’s head to look in the glass. “Look at us,” she said, following with a kiss to Cara’s cheek. “Do we look real together?”

“Yes,” Cara admitted.

She kissed Cara’s other cheek. “Does that feel real?”

“Yes.”

She pressed a short kiss to Cara’s lips. “Do I taste and smell real to you?”

“Yes…”

“And my voice?” Kahlan asked softly.

“I love your voice,” Cara whispered.

Kahlan embraced her, Cara laid her head on her bare shoulder, and Kahlan caught her gaze in the glass. “My love for you is real,” Kahlan promised. “Trust in that if nothing else.”

****

Cara stood on the balcony with arms crossed, looking out over the city that was becoming her own as much as Kahlan’s. They had been in Aydindril for two weeks, and she was becoming settled. She had her hands full personally overseeing the formation of the Aydindril Elite Guard, and often arrived at night to the Mother Confessor’s bedchambers as exhausted as her wife.

Her gaze fell to the red leather glove on her hand, and she pulled it off to reveal the thin ring beneath. Narrow bands of gold and silver intertwined, and tiny deep green emeralds were spaced throughout. Kahlan had explained sheepishly that she had it made small so she could wear her leather over it, and Cara fell that much more in love with her.

The days before the wedding had flown by for Cara, and she had barely minded the fitting of dresses and the fussing of the servants and maids as they prepared her. It was all worth it as she looked into Kahlan’s eyes before the innumerable people that filled the cavernous hall, and they pledged their life and love to each other.

Kahlan’s voice suddenly floated behind her. “Richard and Dennee are leaving tomorrow.”

Cara turned from the sunset to see her wife leaning in the balcony doorway in her white Confessor dress. She was letting her hair down, and as it came loose and cascaded around her shoulders, Cara wondered if she would ever cease to be amazed by her beauty. Her eyes fell to the shining ring Kahlan always wore proudly on her own finger—a similar but thicker band of gold and silver with a brilliant sapphire as close to Kahlan’s eyes as Cara could find.

“She’s going with him?” Cara asked, somehow not surprised.

Kahlan joined her at the railing. “Only part of the way. She’s taking Wizard Gareth with her, and they’ll be making a circuit of the Midlands. Like Confessors used to do.”

“That old fool?” Cara scoffed. “Let me send a few of my Elites with them. Besides, there might still be rogue Mord-Sith abroad.”

“Two. You can pick two.”

Cara nodded acquiescence and they fell to what Cara knew was Kahlan’s favorite pastime: watching the sun set over the city together. Comfortable silence settled over them as they drank in each other’s company, and Kahlan’s hand came to the small of Cara’s back to rub small circles there.

“What are you thinking?” Kahlan asked.

It surprised Cara to realize that she had an answer for Kahlan, but she raised her head and glanced at her sidelong. “Very deep thoughts,” she murmured mysteriously.

“Oh. Am I going to have to convince you to share them?” Kahlan asked, her tone not entirely innocent.

Cara smirked at the subtle offer, but her face softened as she looked into Kahlan’s eyes. “I’m glad we saved this world,” she admitted.

Kahlan canted her head and smiled as if she understood Cara’s cryptic offering, and when she embraced Cara from behind and buried her head in her shoulder, Cara realized she did.


End file.
